


A Father's Duty

by bugattiispaceship



Series: Imperfect Vessels [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Adorable Baby Yoda (The Mandalorian TV), Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Baby Yoda - Freeform, Bounty Hunter, Dyn Jarren - Freeform, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fandom, Fandom fic, Fanfiction, Hurt/Comfort, Jedi, Minor Original Character(s), OC, Original Character(s), Other, Parent-Child Relationship, Pedro Pascal - Freeform, Star Wars - Freeform, Star Wars Fanfiction, Star wars fandom - Freeform, The Child - Freeform, The Force, din djarren, din jarren, force sensitive, heres to semester two, idk i'm making this up as i go, jed'aii, little yoda, space, star wars fic, star wars series, the mandalorian - Freeform, this dad cant catch a break, will his wig get snatched, y/n
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:41:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 49
Words: 86,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22254301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bugattiispaceship/pseuds/bugattiispaceship
Summary: Wish the Mandolarian was your dad? Yeah? So do I. You are a force sensitive being, trying to survive off of selling refined Kyber crystal. Though dealing with something so powerful has dangerous consequences. After narrowly escaping a deadly encounter, a certain bounty hunter is set in finding you.
Relationships: Baby Yoda & The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV), The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Others, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV) & Reader, The Mandalorian (The Mandalorian TV)/You
Series: Imperfect Vessels [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2010565
Comments: 43
Kudos: 212





	1. To Coruscant

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PedropascaI](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=PedropascaI).



Your small feet moved slowly, driven by the mere will to find somewhere to rest. Though your bag weighed heavily on your back, you simply could not afford to cast it away. Containing, rations, a medical kit, and your wares, it was invaluable. Your water had run out two days ago, leaving you light headed and weak, yet the lack of hydration had ignited something feral making survival more than likely.

Exhaustion led you to a damp alley, slick with grime and oil dropping from the speeders above. Slumping against a wall, you gazed up at the sky above the blinding light of Coruscant rendered the true nature of night almost invisible. Though inconvenient, it was still welcome, with your current state any surprises had the upper hand. At the present moment, everything seemed to be safe, your only company in the homely alley being dumpsters with their contents strewn about and a drunk and a drunk Toong babbling to themself. After taking a few moments to observe and evaluate how incapacitated they were, you decided the risk was low. Traipsing over, the Toong barely moved as you rummaged through their clothing only to find a few Imperial credits. It was certainly not much but was enough for a day.

With the money stowed in your pocket, you broke out a ration bar this would hold you over until tomorrow so you could use what you found for maybe a couple more and something to drink. The surge of calories gave you the energy to make your way up from one of the bottom levels; you could even see the tops of some of the tallest buildings, some still bearing the faint signs of the old government. Being late in the evening, not many welcoming establishments were open, though no bar or club would let you in; your stature was far too small and you dared not speak lest it give you away. You had lost your focus for a moment until your eyes landed on the glowing lights of a small diner. It seemed friendly enough, no one inside was visibly armed, and there was even a small family by the front window. Entering, you decided your decision had been safe, no one cared about your presence except the waitress at the counter who tried to take your order.

“What can I get for you?”

You remained silent, motioning for a menu which the waitress droid handed you. Pointing out what you wanted, it took note and soon returned with root leaf stew, some tea, and water, all of which you slipped into your own containers. Placing all the credits you had taken on the table, only the waitress watched you leave. It cleaned up what little mess you made, though coming across something strange, the droid cocked its head to the side picking up something little and shining.

“Whatcha got there?” A voice asked from behind.

The droid turned, “I am not sure.” Handing the object over it continued, though I am sure you know, Dex.“

The Besalisk examined the item in his hand, a knot forming in his throat. He certainly knew what it was. Kyber. Only two small shards, but still Kyber. Not raw, it was colored. Under old circumstances, he wouldn’t have hesitated to call upon his old friend. Though his whereabouts were unknown and he had presumed dead.

This was not any of his business, only a risk to his own livelihood. Though the Empire had been toppled, scavengers, bounty hunters and criminals alike would be dying to get a hold of refined kyber, and with his age, Dex was in no shape to take on anything other than daily business. Walking out the back, he threw the crystal into the trash. Reopening was hard enough without anything force related involved.

*****

After eating your fill, you fixed your mask securely around your head. Getting into a cheap hotel free of charge had been easy enough, all you had to do was start a fight, slip away and unlock one of the room doors. No one would notice, and if they did you had barricaded the door and could escape from the back.

Laying on the creaking bed, you could feel every bruise that littered your body. Once again your hopes had been too high. He had seemed like a secure buyer, at least for one transaction. Though, you had vastly underestimated the experience and tenacity of the man. He had gone by an obviously false name but one of his accomplices had called him Beilert. At least you knew who to avoid and who to eventually research one you had resources.

In your escape he had given you quite the beating, casting him away, you barely made it past his goons. It was completely frustrating, at some moments you felt as though the power of the whole galaxy coursed through your veins! And in others, you felt as you were. Just a kid trying to live in a time unsure of its course.

Beilert would surely try to track and follow you now he knew you carried and sourced kyber. The mere thought made your head spin. Too much to think about. Final allowing yourself to sleep, you held onto your pack tightly, letting the sounds of the city lull you to sleep.

*****

A small coo jarred Dyn from his wandering thoughts. Looking down he saw the child grasping a switch in his tiny hands. He quietly cursed to himself before delicately removing the child from near the control panel. Cara was right, investing in toys would be much better than having important buttons A sharp beeping noise alerted him to a message. Greef, probably with an offer. Though he now had his son to look after and subsequently train so any work would have to be specific. With the press of a button, Greef’s figure flared to life on the comm."

Mando! I hope you and your baby are doing well. I have a client who is seeking you out specifically for a little job. Nothing too serious, just bringing in one alive. The target shouldn’t give you much trouble. And this guy pays well! Trust me. I know him. I’ll send you the details.”

Greef had sent the information, though there was little to go off of. It was a track down and bring in job. The client had neglected to share his name, though that was hardly necessary. The visual of the target was certainly lacking. No picture or hologram, only a brief description. A small being, no taller than an average human child, covered in a tattered cloak. That could be any of billions in the entire galaxy. But the one defining feature was the mask. Dyn memorized the details easily. This would be simple. All he had to do was reach the last known location on Coruscant, and luckily, the target had already been weakened.


	2. The Little Nexu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having only been a day he has you in his sights. Injured, starving and exhausted, can you escape one of the most dangerous bounty hunters in the galaxy?

The piercing light of morning pierced through the two small eye visors of your mask. Perhaps you should have woken much earlier, as your body moved slower than a speeder with a spent engine. Sitting upright made your battered muscles scream in protest. A good bath or soak should have been in order, though at the cost of undoing all the bandages that covered your body? Certainly not. That was a pivotal asset, making any identification process or attempt arduous, to say the least. Strapping your bag to your back, you opened the door to the back balcony and scaled your way carefully down. For a moment you considered going back to Dex's Diner, though money was lacking and you did have enough ration bars for a few days.

A shiver ran up your spine, making you ears shift uncomfortably under your mask. You had eaten last night and even slept more than three hours in a single night; was this exhaustion or perhaps food poisoning? No. The sensation ran deeper, permeating every cell in your body, causing some feeling of slight euphoria. Akin to nothing else except the illuminated sensitivity that came with mining for Kyber.

Shaking your head in frustration, you focused intently on reaching a docking bay, finding a ride and flying safely back to Jeddah to heal and collect more assets. The karking bounty hunters had pummeled you good. Again, you trusted too easily, again, you had failed to sell anything, again you would have to take some ship that should be decommissioned back to the small temple at home. Perhaps Asa would be there this time to coach you through your first aid. Her presence was always very sedating to the anxiety that loomed over you. If luck was in your favor, maybe some idiot would be distracted by their first time on an illegal transport unit, leaving their pockets easy pickings.

The peculiar feeling had left a while ago, leaving you both relieved and a bit sad. It was the closest thing to genuine comfort but unfortunately, it had been severely fleeting. With an exhausted sigh, you pushed and shoved your way through the crowds of people, trying to find the most discreet individual that wouldn't end up trying to kill you in broad daylight.

“Please don't eat that.” Dyn sighed, gingerly removing his child away from the dashboard. Again he had gotten his slobber all over a good number of his switches. The baby giggled in delight, perhaps knowing the mischief he was causing. After carefully laying him down in the refurbished pod for a nap, Dyn returned to his seat. Taking this job would be easy. Just in and out and then he could perhaps rest for a day. He prepared the ship for descent as they neared the atmosphere of Coruscant, the vast city might prove to be problematic but Dyn had been provided with the district the bounty had last been seen. His client had even promised the target would almost certainly still be there. How fortunate.

Leaving his son on the ship wasn't his first choice, though better than doing a job with a baby strapped to his chest. Besides, all he had to strap the baby to him was the sack the stormtroopers had shoved him in. After his work was finished, Dyn would have to stop at a market and pick up some supplies for the child. A commotion had started a few yards over, loud whooping and yelling grabbed the Mandalorian's attention. It didn't seem like much, a scuffle that was evolving into a street brawl, the lower levels of Coruscant were never dull. More screams erupted and Dyn couldn't help but walk over to have a look at the cause of such commotion.

Shock could barely describe the utter bewilderment of the scene unfolding before him. A young male Twilek grasped helplessly at the lean arms that had a vice grip around his neck. Both combatants seemed tired and beaten though the extent of the injuries was not the source of surprise. It was the crude white mask, reminiscent of a Nexu, covering the features of the far smaller opponent. Their weak frame was dressed in wrappings of grey cloth and a thick, tattered, cloak.

Raising a hand, Jarren expected the Twilek to continue his delayed assault, however, he only patted the arm of the victor who let go, jumping back several feet to keep a safe distance. With the spectacle dying down, the crowd began to disperse into the city.

What a karking bastard. All you had asked for was a ride. Of course, you had forgotten to keep enough of the stolen credits to pay a transporter but offering Kyber hadn't exactly worked in your favor. Almost immediately the Twilek had tried to rob you of your wares, it has been half-expected but the tired half of you hoped he would just let you on the damned ship. Instead, you both fell to the ground fought tirelessly, he tried his hardest to snatch the mask off your face but somehow you had managed to wrap your arms around his neck until he caved in backing down. You were slightly mortified by the amount of onlookers that had managed to gather around to yell and gawk at the spectacle. Animals all of them. What would have happened if someone had died? Would they just leave the body there? Probably.

Now in worse shape than before, you scouted the dock for another way home. It had probably been the lack of food, sleep, water, and the multiple hits to the head that had your defenses lowered. Hastily, you walked straight into something cold and solid.

“Hey, hold it.” A pair of roughly gloved hands grasped your shoulders uncertainly. Normally you would have jumped in surprise and ran, though this grip was strong and you were dazed. He looked you over in a matter of seconds before grabbing your arm. “You're coming with me.”

The voice was masculine but distorted by a helmet. The design looked mandalorian, though you had never seen one in person, only having a description from Asa. Your head throbbed intensely as you let the hunter drag you along. Oh to be back home where the only sounds were that of the ancient temple fountain and Asa endlessly monologuing about the days of old. She would be incensed by your situation, though completely translucent, you were sure your only friend would be doing everything that she could to get you away from this kriffing bastard.

“Pick up the pace, you're going to slow.” The mandalorian ordered.

Willing away your fatigue, you pulled away sharply, the suddenness making the release rather easy. Whipping around, you took off as fast as you could, ignoring your muscles that begged for the slightest bit of respite. His loud shouts reached your ears making your headache. The hunter was definitely not far behind.

“Hey! Stop! Get back here!”

In what universe had those words actually worked?

Thanks to a rather large group of what could only be the local gang of the district, you lost sight of your pursuer. Leaning down to the filthy group you heaved the sewer cover off with your remaining strength, jumping aimlessly into the darkness, you landed awkwardly on the ground below. Something had definitely been cracked. Nothing major, but inconvenient nonetheless. Fresh hot tears flowed heavily down your face, making the friction against your mask uncomfortable. Now was not a time go sob, biting down on your lower lip, you refused to make a sound.

A few minutes went by and you hadn't moved, but the Mandalorian either gave up or you had successfully evaded him. Your covered hands pushed you against the wall of the sewer, shifting yourself upright. Now you needed her. Surely she couldn't provide any aide but her presence was enough, Asa's first lesson had been simple, yet you found great difficulty in it. Closing your eyes, you forced yourself to pay no mind to your worries, anxieties, and fears. Nothing good could come from any of those. Such thoughts were just parasites to the mind, leading one on a dangerous, irreversible path.

“Very good!” The light, pleasant voice made your heart soar. She had come! “My stars...you look worse than when I first found you, young one.”

Asa moved closer from where she stood, kneeling down next to you. A luminous, gentle hand went to lay on your leg but phased through. The Iktotchi woman had found you ransacking a long-forgotten temple on the outskirts of Jeddah city. Half-starved and dirty, she had taken pity on you that eventually grew into a strong fondness. At your extremely young age, you hadn't understood the concept of death entirely, though now was different. She was a ghost, an apparition of her former self, still young and strong as she had been when she once guarded the temple. At first you thought you were hallucinating due to hunger, but it was not so. A few years later it still never ceased to amaze you how she would materialize out of nothing.

“This looks very bad...” A small hand went to her mouth as she looked sadly at you.

Shakily, you directed her to your leg which was looking rather unnatural.

Asa sighed. “It's broken. But I suppose you knew this. If you would just take more time to reflect...” Asa looked away for a brief moment before looking you dead on. “Young one, meditation is the only way you can achieve Ashla and then you would not be at death's door every hour!” Used to your quiet nature, her features relaxed. “I can help you with this, though I won't be able to help you again for a while. Do you understand, young one?”

After a quick nod, Asa took a deep breath, her face becoming the very epitome of harmony. The waves of pain coursing through your leg stopped, and you moved your leg, making sure it could function properly.

“Young one...” Asa said quietly.

Looking into her brilliant orange eyes, you felt a pang of guilt, she had weakened herself to heal you.

“Be safe. Let the universe guide you.”

In a few seconds, Asa had dissipated into the darkness. How long was a while?

You had been staring where she had been kneeling when you heard the manhole cover come off with intense force. Dropping down across from you he stood, a blaster in one hand. Despite the helmet, you could feel the frustration radiating off of him.

“Look.” The mandalorian started. “This can go one of two ways.”

Sighing you reached underneath your cloak, you hand gripped the hilt with confidence. The first and last gift you had ever been given. You could feel his frustration grow as you produced your spear. He was obviously dangerous, but not deadly, you could feel him stronger now and he did not feel like a killer. For now. He lifted his blaster and fired. Hastily, you pivoted on your left leg, deflecting the blast and landing into perfect form. Asa would be proud.

“What the hell is that made of?” He asked exasperatedly.

Not answering, you leaned back first and charged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So yeah your bond to the force is a little stronger! I'm having a lot of fun writing this tbh. the semester is started but I'll have a good time to write this since I only have one major now. What alien species should the reader be?
> 
> Also, let me know what you think
> 
> <3


	3. Wandering Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Having captured his bounty, Dyn in finally ready to return to the guild for the exchange with his client. But the child has other ideas.

The sturdy blade ricocheted off Dyn's Beskar armor, narrowly missing a space between the plating. This one was fast, but he could tell stamina was not something they had going for them at the present time. Their moves were almost like dance steps, elegant and smooth, Dyn could almost admire it though they were trying to run him through. Putting his blaster back in its holster, he spotted a moment a lapse in timing. Dyn seized the shaft of the weapon, trying to rip it away using his greater strength.

“Just give it up already!” He demanded. They still hung on with both hands, growling low. “I'm not here to kill you!”

His words made no difference and elicited no response. Either they were deaf or just being plain annoying, neither option would fare very well. Dyn's frustration fueled him further, with a firm swing, he flung the bounty against the wall with a sound smack. They quickly scrambled to their feet in an obvious daze, trying to gather their bearings.

“It's over. I got your weapon.” Drawing his blaster again, he pointed it at their chest. “If you make this more difficult I'll stun you.”

For a few moments they stood their ground panting heavily, how they were still standing, he didn't know. Anyone looking that feeble should have been hospitalized.

“Just come with me and I won't shoot.” He watched uncomfortably as his bounty tilted their head to the side. That mask was too unnerving and almost a copy of its grotesque inspiration. The way the pitch-black eyeholes stayed fixed on him made him shift uneasily. A shaky hand raised outwards, and at once the spear flew from Dyn's hands over to the other. Neither party moved. He waited for the next assault, his heartbeat picking up its pace. Rather than taking the offense Dyn Jarren watched the small creature collapse to the floor, the shining spear clattering to the floor of the sewers.

The body failed to move for several minutes. Once he deemed it safe to do so, the Mandalorian crossed over to the crumpled form, taking a small arm in hand he could feel a pulse beneath the layers of bandages. Delicately, Dyn gathered them up in his arms, slightly alarmed at how little they weighed. No one gave him a second look as he awkwardly climbed out of the rancid sewer, truly anything could happen at the lower levels of the city. He made sure to keep a careful eye on your breathing in case you came to. Letting out a sigh of relief, Dyn was more than glad when the Razor Crest came into view. After opening the main hatch, he laid the little body on the floor of the ship. Restraints were in order, he couldn't afford more fighting on the way back to Nevarro. Using the smallest cuffs he had, the Mandalorian made sure to secure them to a fixed rod in the structure of the ship. Perhaps crude, and even cruel, though while you were greatly injured that did not make you any less dangerous.

Dyn slumped in his seat, letting out yet another sigh. What were the odds? It had been magic, jerking away the spear from his grasp with just a raise of the hand. Just like his child. Did that make you family? Could his child be related? Turning around, he looked you over, still unconscious. He considered taking the mask off but dismissed the idea. There was a hefty bounty on your head for a reason he didn't need to know. The thought reminded him that he hadn't checked to make sure you weren't armed further.

****

A sharp numbness spread from your wrists, making your arms ache. Not only had you failed to escape, but you had been defeated in a fight. Now that was a first. Opening your eyes was arduous, to say the least, the crust from old tears crumbled away as your vision vied to fixate on anything. Your hands were secured tightly in a pair of cuffs, keeping you flush against the wall of the ship. While now you could see, your surroundings moved about all distorted, it came as a surprise to see the Mandalorian suddenly very close to you, reaching out. Twisting your body proved exceptionally painful, while your leg had healed, the deep bruises from fighting Valance, an involuntary cry of pain escaped past your lips.

“Stay. Still.” He ordered. “If you keep fighting you'll end up killing yourself.”

Defeated, you slumped against the cool metal, feeling the frigidness through your cloak and bandages happened to be somewhat soothing. Your body was limp, being held up by your cuffed wrists held above your head. Glaring through your mask, you pictured every way you wanted to thrash him about.

“Do you have anything else that can hurt me on you?”

Refusing, you pressed your lips tightly together, keeping motionless.

“What? You're not gonna talk to me?...” After a few moments of petty silence, he lightly patted you down, disturbing some of your injuries, he eventually came upon your bag. “What's in here?”

Kicking your feet out you refused to let him get to your only possessions, your desperate effort made no difference as the Mandalorian easily broke the strap and pulled the bag from you. He opened the small snap and dumped the bag upside down. Out tumbled the pound of refined Kyber you had yet to sell, five ration bars, a small jug of water and your broken datapad.

“What the hell is this? Rocks? All of this over rocks?”

While the Mandalorian was processing what in the hell Kyber was, you took a moment to glance around the ship. You had certainly seen worse starships, but this was far from mediocre. Various items had been strewn about as though they had been in a windstorm. A small smile graced your lips; the temple had looked like this for a few weeks as Asa tried teaching you how to use her ancient magic. It was imperative to master if you were to carry out your first task on behalf of the forgotten temple. Asa had asked something seemingly simple. To restore the sanctuary to its former glory. Perhaps then, her old friends could join her. After saving your life, it was the least you could do. By selling valuable Kyber, you could possibly draw out any connections to the ancient order. She had failed to tell you there would be those that would kill you for it.

“What are you looking at?” The Mandalorian turned to see the mess that had caught your attention. “What...oh shit.”

He frantically searched the ship once, and then twice. “Kid? Hey, Kid? Shit!”

How did this man have a child? Bounty hunters had the nobility of a womprat and only had eyes for the bounty at hand. Even if one were to have a child, would not taking it along with you prove to be a severe liability?

The Mandalorian ran past you to the front of the ship, switching on his comm. “Greef?”

“Mando!” A jubilant voice came over.

“I have what the client wants, but there's a problem. I can't find the kid.”

“You _**lost**_ the baby?”

“I laid him down for a nap, went to- Look! That doesn't matter. I need you to send Cara over as fast as you can. He's small but I'm going to need help.”

“I'll let her know right away. Be careful, Mando.”

You could feel his desperation and a faint sense of guilt coming off of him, though that was not the only sensation. There was something faint, barely perceivable, yet it still remained. Something familiar yet unknown. Was it his child? Surely not. There was no sense of that power around him at all.

“You,” he said sternly, “Don't try anything. Don't move.”

The Mandalorian switched open the hatch, turning you caught his gaze. Still covered by the visor, his uncertainty was palpable. You watched tentatively as he walked out, his cape fluttering behind.

Several hours had flown by and the Mandalorian had yet to return to the Razor Crest. You had been able to rest for the majority of that time, allowing some of your strength to return. The heat of the ship became unbearable, by shaking your head wildly, you managed to send your mask against the other wall. Letting out a sigh of utter relief, you relished din the feeling of your ears being freed from restriction. They were not too terribly large but they poked out past your hair coming to a smooth point. Using one foot, you pulled a stray ration bar closer, then grasping it with both feet, you dexterously brought it to your mouth. With gusto, you managed to bite in despite the wrapper, at the present moment you couldn't afford to be picky. Though incredibly bland, the taste was welcome, after all, ration bars were only made to give sufficient calories.

Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your mind. First, dispelling any wandering thoughts, worries, and anxieties. How Asa made this look so simple you felt you would never know. Only the faint noises of the outdoors remained, but soon those too fell silent for a few moments. Then, with a click, the cuffs around your wrists clattered to the floor. Looking out the docking window, you could see that night was starting to fall and the Mandalorian had yet to come back.

The thought of taking the ship for yourself had crossed your mind, though you had not the faintest idea of how to fly. In truth, the very thought of flying made you uncomfortable. Instead, you gathered your own belongings putting your mask back on and taking the time to search for a few other items to take with you. After rummaging you found a handsome amount of imperial credits and a knife. But where was your spear?

You had scoured every part until you came upon a secured storage unit, though with a raise of the hand, the door slid open revealing a personal arsenal of impressive weapons, including yours. Perhaps taking a blaster was a wise idea, you did know how to handle one with some skill, but they were much too unwieldy and reckless. Finally ready, you opened the main hatch and ran out, unaware of the watchful eyes on you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I'm also taking one shot and drabble requests on tumblr @ghoullflower


	4. Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Perhaps fate has tied you to this small green creature as you both share a similar power. But now cornered can you escape the wrath of an angry father?

Your goal was to get as far away from the district as you could, find a way off with your stolen credits and make it home to Jeddah. However, the lack of medical care was proving to be an inhibitor as your sore and bruised muscles were hard to control. Each step became increasingly labored as you ran, perhaps some of the credits could get you some much-needed bacta spray, though securing transportation was the first priority. Stopping to take a brief rest, you looked up towards the higher section of Coruscant, you were just below what used to be an imperial senate building. Ships were constantly coming and going from those docks, security would be high but with nightfall, sneaking aboard would be possible.

With the fear of failure replaced by determination and desperation, scaling the buildings proved to be almost effortless. It amazed you whenever you were able to concentrate your power, with your jumping enhanced, a sense of confidence. Growing stronger was feasible, with some more instruction from Asa, and a little more worldly experience you could get one step closer with your mission and even earn another special bead.

Bandaged feet landed softly on the docking space, drawing no attention from the few starship personnel present. The crafts at hand were limited, your best bet being a rebel transport. You were about to dash for the cargo hold when something caught your attention. That feeling. So strong and intense, your legs buckled. Nothing painful or sinister, just something immensely powerful.

From the corner of your eye you spotted a small green object moving rather quickly towards the old senate building, looking closer it appeared to be a creature of some sort, sporting green ears much to big for its head and the smallest little arms you had ever seen. It must have been a baby or toddler at least. No one seemed to notice it, but you knew someone eventually would. Could the feeling be coming from that little creature waddling about?

Sighing, you scanned your surroundings trying to find anything to create a diversion, with nothing but commercial cargo, you forced open a wiring panel, drawing your stolen blaster, you fired multiple times. Fire burst forth, almost setting your clothing ablaze, though there wasn't enough to garner any attention. Glancing up you could see the little child still waddling around, the edge of the dock was only a few yards from the baby, it could easily wander close...

Concentrating on the flames, you took a few deep breaths, but who knew how much more energy you could utilize without rendering yourself unconscious again. However, you had more than yourself to protect.

Willing the fire to spread, docking personnel watched in disbelief as searing hot flames enveloped the transport. With their attention on the growing inferno, you maneuvered around stockpiles of unloaded cargo, occasionally looking back at the thoroughly destroyed ship. You could feel your blood drain down to your feet as a small group of pilots desperately fled from the blaze. You hadn't accounted for them or any passengers inside. The flames grew alongside your developing hysteria, transforming from red to a hot white. What had you done? There could be bodies inside, loved ones that would no longer see their families or friends. Or perhaps worst of all, people who had yet to find loved ones could have been trapped and burned alive.

Hot tears poured down your cheeks as you watched from a distance. Strangled cries fought fiercely to escape your lips, but turned into deep growls. You could feel your body twitch and contort involuntarily, your movements growing more erratic the harder you tried to control yourself. The unbearable experience was seemingly endless until a cool hand lightly touched your leg. Almost instantly, a staggering sense of calm washed over your body, cleansing it of all anguish. Sitting up, you turned to see the little green child, eyes gazing up in apparent wonder. Scooting a little closer, you examined it; the child was like nothing you had ever seen before. Though your time spent traveling was not so very long, you had come to see countless species of individuals, but nothing that looked like this. The ears reminded you somewhat of your own, but the similarities stopped there.

Either bold or foolish the creature was, without any semblance of fear it's little clawed hand reached out to you. He was so very little, how the hell had he made his way up so karking far?

Slowly, your fists unclenched, extending your arm out just a little, the small child took hold of one finger. Realizing he must have been awfully hungry, you produced a ration bar, offering it to the child, he showed no apprehension in taking the food, stuffing it in his mouth rather greedily. Quietly you laughed, while very strange looking the young one did have an incredibly strong sense of charm.

Examining the immediate surroundings, this was clearly no place for a baby, but where was it's mother? Everyone on the dock appeared to be human, and there was no way he could be related to that Mandalorian. You would have to carry and tend to him until you could find a suitable caretaker. The child made no protest as you fit him snugly into your back, tying the straps securely around your torso.

“Put him down.” Came a cool voice.

Turning, you came to face one of the most beautiful women you had ever seen. With a blaster pointed at your head she looked like some goddess, some deity of war. For a moment you had lost yourself, her voice brought you back to reality.

“Did you hear me? I said put him down.”

Clearly this wasn't his mother, though one never knew. But your senses felt clearer since meeting the little one, and the intentions of this woman were clouded at best. But that changed quickly as you could see her finger shift towards the trigger and press down hard. The noise came first, and your hand shot up second in defense, sending the blast off into the dark horizon. The woman stared at you, her mouth agape in a mix of shock and horror.

“Oh, shit...”

You were foolish to think that one display of power would be enough to intimidate the great woman, her determination was almost tangible. So, you turned to your most favored option and ran, jumping off the side, you could hear screaming behind you, fierce and furious. With arms tight around the baby, you landed softly on another roof. Looking down at the child, he met your gaze, cooing softly. You found yourself lost in his eyes, only to hear something moving your way at an increasing speed. Jumping back, a solid kick just missed you. Of course, it was the Mandalorian.

Touching down right before you, your newfound strength was beginning to wear off.

“Give. Me. The child.”

With a shake of your head, you ardently refused, not noticing the sound of distressed gurgling. Your mind raced furiously deciding whether to engage or flee once again. But, you didn't have to. The familiar sound of a gun firing sent your ears ringing as you fell to the ground. You could hear faint crying as the universe turned black.

***

“Cara, you could have hit him,” Dyn grumbled, taking his son into his arms. Ever since she had fired her weapon into the bounty's chest he hadn't stopped crying and wailing.

“Why is he still crying, that...thing kidnapped him.” Cara stood over the small body sprawled on the ground. It was pitiful that such a weak thing was this desperate. “I hope I didn't kill your target. Greef said the client wanted it alive. Though after what I saw I don't know if that's such a good idea.”

'What the hell do you mean by that?”

“I mean, it could do magic,” Cara started, kneeling over the fallen creature. “Like him. With the hand and controlling things with the mind.”

“Are you sure?”

“I'm positive.”

“Take off that mask.” Dyn turned away, afraid to let the child see. Were the two related? Is that why they had taken off with him?

“S-shit...” Cara's hand went to her mouth, her heart twisting in her chest. “Mando...it's just a kid...I-I shot a child!”

“No.” Dyn Jarren knelt down beside his friend, and to his horror she was right.

***

“Mama, when is papa coming home?”

“When the war ends, young one.”

“I hope it ends soon so I can see him. And then I can show him that I can read!” Your little body could hardly contain its excitement. Your mother had promised when you could first remember that your father would return at the end of the constant melee. The very thought was extraordinary, despite the fact that you had never met the man. The news in your ward was that the rebellion had landed a fatal blow to the damned empire, a blow so severe that it could bring a final resolution to the conflict.

Slipping down from your seat at the table, you went to your mother's side, tugging at her dress. “Mama, I'm going to go play rebels outside, okay?”

A smooth brown hand ran gently through your hair, eventually resting on your cheek. “Alright, just be safe.”

You nodded vigorously, running out the front door.

“But you put shoes on!”

“No!” You laughed as you outran your mother dashing out the front door and into the street.

“Stop! NO!”

You hadn't thought running without shoes was such a shameful offense, you considered turning back until you saw what she was screaming about. The speeder was coming much too fast, too fast for you to run or even jump out of the way. Reflexively, you held up your arms, preparing for the speeder to send you flying. You knew it would kill you, it just had to. It couldn't. You had yet to meet your father who would come home any day now! Yes, any day and he would come through the door, arms open and a smile to shine brighter than any star in the entire galaxy. To just see him would be enough.

“NO!”

You hadn't expected it. Nor had you wanted it. But nevertheless, it came like a flood through a broken dam. The power surging from in and around you, sending the speeder spiraling out of control until it crashed into another home. Your eyes remained fixed on the smoking wreck as you failed to see the driver escape.

“Child.” Your mother's voice came stiff and strong as she gripped your wrist tightly.

“Mama! I-I didn't mean to! It j-just happened! It was an accident, Mama! You have to believe me, please!”

You sobbed and screamed as she dragged you back inside, not caring that you were barely able to keep up. She had never been like this, not once had her actions been filled with such sorrow and anger. Taking up her gathering bag, she began to pack it quickly with whatever was prudent and of use. When she was done, she pressed it to your chest, her eyes boring into your own.

“I hoped it would have spared you. Please, go.”

“W-What? Mama?”

“I said go! Leave!”  
  


“Mama please, I didn't mean to hurt anyone I-”

“No. You didn't. But you can no longer stay here. You are too much like your father. Graced with something that will only get you killed.”

Not another word uttered could you remember. Just the cuts and blood that came from your feet as you sprinted away from your village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tell me what you think in the comments! I'm taking short drabble requests in my Tumblr inbox @flowerghoull
> 
> I write for the Star Wars film series, the Clone Wars, The Mandalorian, most Marvel characters, Batman, and some others, I'll let you know if I know the series or fandom a request is from <3


	5. Unravel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By some miracle or some greater power, you're still alive. Though in the hands of your attackers, your problems are only just beginning.

For the first time in ages, you woke feeling surprisingly well-rested, but certainly far from being alright. The unfamiliar sensation of something soft covering you was startling, with wakefulness came a rush of panic. The fight. The Mandalorian. You had been shot. You had the child strapped to your chest, you were holding him in your arms when the blast came tearing through your flesh. Your hand flew to the left side of your chest where you found the wound still fresh.

“Hey, hey hey!” It was her. The beautiful warrior you had seen at the senate building. “Calm down!”

Whether in defiance or alarm, you tried in vain to sit up only to have her strong arms press you firmly to your cot. “Stop it!” She held you down securely, making any movement futile and a waste of precious energy. Staring right back up at her you could see the fear in her eyes, though if it was of you was unsure. “You're injured a-and you're scared!”

Your brows furrowed in confusion until you felt cool air on the skin of your face. Breathing became subdued and ragged as your hands flew to your face unable to find the safety and security of your mask. She could see you. Hell, anyone could see you. Taking the blanket you pulled it over your head, holding fast lest it be moved. Fright filled your heart hammering against your chest, desperate for escape.

“That wound is still open...If you don't let me help it could get infected.” The woman sighed. It sounded like her voice softened, but that did little to calm you. She was right. The shot had gone right through you leaving a nasty, slightly cauterized gunshot below your collar bone. Under any other circumstances, the pain would have brought you to tears, the sharp pulsating, the constant ache of bruised muscles and half-healed scars made it easy. Though now with everything coming together at once the overwhelming pain stopped any tears from flowing.

A gentle hand reached out, well-meaning but still gripped hard on a fresh bruise. A strangled cry escaped your lips, much to your dismay.

“I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you.”

The gunshot could dispute that.

She sighed. Through the material of the blanket, you could see her move closer.

“I'm going to take the blanket away, alright?”

Once more, with softness, her hands took the blanket and placed it to the side. Looking into her eyes, you felt more exposed than ever before. The feeling only grew more.

“I'm assuming you're injured elsewhere. You'll have to take those bandages off.”

Your eyes widened and you shook your head furiously.

“In private of course...Look. A lot had happened and all at once. I know you're afraid. But you need help. In all honesty, you should be dead with the condition you're in.”  
  


Without your mask, she could read you, without it your feelings could be known and perceived. Something that could easily be taken advantage of. You wanted to beg for anything else, but your knowledge of healing and caring for injuries was sorely lacking. She would have to help you.

“There's a drawn bath in the other room, come.” The woman stood, motioning for you to follow. Glancing out a window to the left you could see this was no longer Coruscant. Instead of mile-high buildings, there was a lush green grove of trees and plants that gave off a pleasant aroma.

“This is Sorgan if you're wondering.”

The suns reflecting off the water gave the illusion of diamonds dancing gracefully just above the surface. You had never stopped to see the beauty in such things. You nodded and continued to follow her into the next room. A large metal tub sat in the middle, warm water filled closer to the brim, white steam rising just off the surface.   
  


“Here,” the woman offered a fluffy towel. “My name is Cara. Call me if you need anything, I won't be too far away.”

She left you to undress and bathe as you so pleased. Silently, you thanked the stars you were able to do so on your own, any more humiliation would have been devastating. Undoing your clothing, or bandages rather was agonizing and time-consuming. With each injury you had sustained on your adventures, you had opted to disinfect and cover it, hoping it would heal on its own. Now, peeling back the layers of fabric brought tears to your eyes as each scar was unveiled. Tossing old dressings, aside, you slipped carefully into the water, hissing at the warmth made your wounds sting. With a little time came comfort, and you were able to relax somewhat, letting the water swathe around you.

With the moment to yourself, you pondered your next step. Where had the child gone and what of the Mandalorian? Did they know Cara as well? Why the hell had he been after you in the first place? Perhaps none of that mattered.

All the dirt and grime having been scrubbed off, you covered yourself with the towel and picked up your pile of bandages, and walked to where you had previously been sleeping. To your surprise fresh clothes laid out at the end of the cot, clean and practically brand new. Dressing was quite the difficult task, your limbs still and sore. The pants were much too big and had been cropped to suit your size, though they fell a bit too short just past your knees. Before you could slip into the tunic, a small cough came from the doorway.

“If you have finished bathing then a friend and I would like to help with your injury.”

A friend? It must have been the Mandalorian. Fear consumed your senses as you scrambled to hide your partially clothed self.

“Little one, it's okay!” A different voice entered the room, neither Cara's or the Mandalorian's. Looking from behind your towel, a warm smile and friendly eyes greeted your own, lowering your defenses.

“We just want to help, little one.”

Reluctantly you moved to sit on the bed, letting the towel fall to the floor.

“You may call me Omera, alright?”

Though skeptical of her intentions, you nodded, watching as she left and returned with a basket full of medical supplies. With each touch you flinched, your body unaccustomed to physical contact of any sort. Omer glanced up at your, her brows furrowed, eyes looking up at you with pity which hurt almost as much as the medicine she placed directly on the gunshot wound.

“I'm sorry.” She said softly. “I know this hurts, but it will get better, I promise.”

You couldn't help but look at her in utter amazement. How could she look at you and think anything was repairable, let alone salvageable?

“Tell me, little one, how old are you?”

In truth, you had no idea. Your birth mother had never celebrated your coming into the world, and you had never bothered to do any calculations. Quite embarrassed, you shrugged.

“You don't know?”

You nodded.

“Do you have family?”

A shake of your head made Omera's heart bleed for you.

“I suppose that's why they found you like this. Children shouldn't have to fend for themselves in this galaxy...” For a moment she paused, gauging your emotions. “You do know they had no idea you were so young. Had they known...Well, I'm sure Cara would have never fired.”

Muscles tensing, you forced down a violent scream. Of course, you were still a child, but that didn't mean you needed all this pity and sympathy. Why did she care? You had no kriffing idea who she was except for the fact she knew the woman who had gunned you down in the middle of Coruscant and evidently the man who had kidnapped you.

“And I'm sorry about the clothes. Those were my husband's and I didn't have anything else.”

Omera finished applying the last bacta infused wrapping, smiling she stood, “I'll bring food in a little while, alright? In the meantime, I think you have yourself a little visitor.”

And to your absolute delight, waddling through the doorway came the little green child.

****

“I don't think they can speak.” Cara mused quietly. “I think it's from shock, though I can't be sure.” She eased back on the bench overlooking the Sorgan marshland.

Mando sighed, looking over towards Omera's modest little home. “You're probably right...Are you sure you don't know the name of the client?”

Cara shook her head. “Greef said the client sent a proxy in their own stead, gave him a sum of a thousand credits for discretion and promised a million more upon completion.”

“Shit...Do you think it's because she's like the kid?”

His friend shrugged, “It could be that or the fact that they were carrying a bag full of refined Kyber crystal.”

“I thought those were just rocks.”

Cara couldn't help but laugh. “No, they're not 'just rocks'. Damn, Mando...” She sighed, half smiling. “I spoke to your friend back on Nevarro. Kyber is a very ancient source, connected to the people that I guess your son comes from. Jedi. It's one of their main sources used to power their weapons. I thought I recognized the name, and I was right. It was Kyber that was used to power the damned Imperial superweapon. That weapon that obliterated my planet.”

Dyn could see the muscles in Cara's jaw clench.

“Those 'rocks' can kill.”

Already exhausted, he sighed. “Well, that settles just about nothing.” Dyn walked towards the hut, ready for whatever reaction the kid would have.

Before entering the silently peered through the window to see his son playing with the new kid. Remarkably, with one hand, they floated a few rocks in the air which his child chased happily. He watched for a few minutes not wanting to disturb a rare moment after all his kid deserved a light moment after going through such an ordeal in just a matter of days.

“They get along well,” he almost jumped out of his armor, though turning, Dyn recognized Omera at his side. “Here, you should give them this.” She handed him a small plate of thin fruit slices and cubes of meat. “Try not to startle them too much.” Dyn nodded weakly as Omer left him to enter and face whatever would come.

As soon as he stepped on the doorway, any levity vanished. The smile of the kid's face dissipated into nothing as a look of complete fear took over. Had they looked like that on Couruscant? How afraid had he made them when he had cuffed their arms to the ship? Pushing the thought aside, Dyn moved slowly until he sat across from the older child, with both hands, he held out the plate. Unfortunately, their terror failed to subside and they remained frozen in place.

“It...It's for you,” He offered quietly.

Dyn could see the tears threatening to spill over, and he could feel his throat threaten to close. Scar covered hands moved quickly to wipe away any proof there had been tears. They shook their head defiantly, a slight grimace revealing a set of sharp teeth.

“Look, you have to eat, okay?”

Another refusal.

He sighed, setting the plate down and sliding it over. He watched tentatively as you gingerly picked up a piece of ripe melon, smelling it before taking a small bite.

“What..What do people call you?”

A look of confusion and then chagrin replaced any previous unease. Did they not know their own name? Dyn could feel the start of a headache, just what he needed. Was nothing ever meant to be easy?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so much fun to write asdfghjkl
> 
> I'm taking short drabble prompts at my Tumblr @flowerghoull I'll let you know what fandoms i do!
> 
> Please let me know what you think I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> <3


	6. Lost Lamb

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With a bounty hunter on your tail are you putting everyone in danger? 
> 
> Perhaps, going off on your own is in everyone's best interest.

It took enormous restraint not to take everything on the small plate and scarf it down as fast as you could. Though, with the Mandalorian looking at you (though how you weren't sure) it would have been quite the unbecoming sight. Instead, you took minimal bites, forcing yourself to savor each morsel. You could almost enjoy yourself until the Mandalorian spoke again.

“What do people call you.”

Mind blanking, you wracked your brain of someway to answer. Your birth mother had always called you either, child, my child, or young one. It had never occurred to you that she had never given you a name. Well, perhaps your old friends back on your home planet asked you but they settled for just yelling in your general direction whenever they needed you. You didn't have a kriffing name.

“Do you not have a name?” The Mandalorian asked in disbelief.

Shame turned made your face flush red, turning the tips of your ears pink. You could feel them dipping down, kark it all; having excellent hearing was an incredible asset but at what cost? You needed to find your damn mask.

With a sigh, you shook your head. Under that metal mask, you imagined he was rolling his eyes, annoyed by your insolence. You really hoped he would just get up and leave so you could eat in peace, though he seemed intent on staying. The little child stretched out a little hand, asking for a slice of melon, of course, you couldn't refuse him, but before you could give him any, the Mandalorian pulled the kid back.

“He's already had something. Cara put together a diet so you can gain weight and muscle mass back, so you have to eat... Look, I was hired to take you in to someone. Though I don't know who. No one knows you and I have come into contact yet. I'm assuming they're after the Kyber you've been selling, correct?

You nodded, wondering what they had done with your bag.

“And that's another problem. You can't speak?”

Honestly, you didn't know. You hadn't been able too since the accident on Jeddah. It could have been shock, but to your knowledge, shock didn't last for years. Even if you wanted to...you imagined it would be an atrocious mess.

“Hey, kid.” The Mandalorian called your attention. “Open your mouth.”

If you could have sworn out loud you would have.

“I said open your mouth.” A direct order.

Reluctantly you did as he asked, though why you weren't so sure. Flustered as ever, your jaw opened wide.

“Okay you have a tongue, so you should be able to speak.”

Yes and he was the caretaker of the little one but managed to lose him on the busiest planet in the galaxy.

“Hey, I think that's enough, I don't think they need an interrogation right now.” Cara came in, composed as ever, taking in your appearance. “You look better. I'm glad.”

Nodding in thanks, a strange sensation filled your chest making breathing difficult.

“I think what he's trying to say, kid, is that you have someone seriously looking for you and we need to know who it is so no one gets hurt.”

It was Valence. It had to be. All previous buyers had either paid a little less than fairly, and you had dispatched the rest, save Beilert. If this Mandalorian had actually been commissioned to find, then each of the four were in danger. Asa had offered to teach you how to make your own weapon out of the spear and a little Kyber crystal, though you had refused, not wanting to bother with more meditation and concentration. In the few moments you had to yourself, you found yourself on your knees, begging for the universe to see Asa again. You needed her counsel.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, you could feel the anxiety within Cara, sapping at her ample strength. No one seemed to know how to move forward; perhaps they did indeed want to help you. It was clear they could have killed, maimed or sold you by now, but they hadn't. In fact, they had gone out of their way to take you someplace to heal. But now Beilert Valence was in the goddamn picture. It had been pure luck that you had escaped that night with your life, in truth you had made peace with the fact that you were going to be slaughtered in some forgotten Couruscant slum. The Mandalorian and Cara could take care of themselves reasonably enough, but the little one? His eyes were so bright and shining when he looked up at his father...the adoration was brighter than any sun in the galaxy.

“For now, you should rest.” The Mandalorian said flatly. “I'll try to think of what to do in the morning.” He picked up the small child in his arms and left the hut. You wished he could have stayed to play a little longer.

“Kid,” Your eyes met Cara's. “Do try to sleep, okay?”

You nodded.

“Good...G'night.”

***

The battle against your own heavy eyelids was long fought, though you had managed to secure victory. No, the soothing sound of the night cicadas wouldn't lull you to sleep, nor the soft glow of the Sorgan moon. By pinching your skin every time your scarred eyelids threatened to fall, you made sure to stay awake.

Eventually, you could tell everyone in the village was sound asleep, only nature continued to go about its business, providing enough sound so no one could hear you pack the food you hadn't eaten and dash off into the woods.

It would have been ideal to have your spear, Kyber, and medical supplies, but there was no time for that. You had to find your way to a port as soon as possible and make it back to the temple. Asa would know what to do. If your senses were clear, there would be a landing station about a day's walk away from here. It was uncertain but better than nothing.

The cool moonlight guided you through the host of trees, providing you cover and direction for which you were grateful. Perhaps the galaxy was on your side after all. It was about damn time. Was a little help so much to ask?

You had been walking for about two hours, you could feel your legs growing heavy from overuse; lifting one arm up you could see in shake steadily. Sleep was certainly in order. Selecting the tree most bedecked in leaves, you managed to scramble up as high as you possibly could, nestling against the trunk. Just an hour or two would suffice.

The incessant wailing finally drew Din out of bed, still groggy with sleep, he slid his armor back on before going to check on his child. On the other side of the room, the little one had been resting peacefully thank the stars, and it had taken millennia to get him to sleep as he kept trying to make a break for the older child's cot. Now he gripped the bars of the wooden cradle Omera had generously offered, crying and screaming, tears pouring out of those huge eyes.

“What's the matter, kid? Din murmured taking drawing him into his arms and close to his chest. That little head pressed hard against Din's armor, the cries quieting only slightly. “There's nothing to be scared of, I'm right here.”

Whining, the child, looked helplessly up at him, then out the doorway.

“The other one?... Damn it...I'm sure they're fine. Now you gotta go to sleep. Please?”

The tears flowed more intensely than before, and the screaming intensified. Din hoped no one else would wake.

“Look, we'll go see, okay?”

Cooing a little softer, the child seemed to agree as he carried him across the center of the village over to the back of Omera's home. They would see that the other kid was okay and then the galaxy willing, Din could rock him to sleep and then get some much-needed rest himself.   
  


“Look, everything's good, everything's fine-” Glancing through the doorway, all Din could see was the empty cot, a few blood stains here and there from most likely forgetting to change bandages, but that was hardly the issue. The kid had run.

***

The piercing sound of a blaster firing had you half alarmed and half asleep. The initial shock had been so great you almost fell out of the tree entirely. Looking down you could make out three large figures at the base of the tree. How in hell had they found you? Patting yourself down, your makeshift bag was still at your waist, nothing else seemed to be out of place- As your hand touched the wet fabric of your tunic, you cursed the universe. Of course, it was blood, you hadn't changed your bandages before nightfall.

Another shot rang through the forest making your ears ring violently. It luckily had failed to hit you. Unluckily, it struck the branch you were laying on. There was no time to beg for help, the branch snapped, unable to support your weight any longer you felt yourself fall through the air, powerless to land gracefully. Instead, your body hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath clear out of you. Groaning and shaking, you could tell something or rather various things were clearly broken. Peering over, three of the ugliest faces you had ever seen stared greedily at you.

“We got it! The boss is gonna love this!”

Beilert's men no doubt and a Massif. He still wanted the kriffing Kyber, but he needed you alive for that, though at this point dying seemed like an easier way out of this damned mess. One of the bounty hunters tugged the glove off his human hand and seized your jaw with all his strength. Turning your head from side to side, you knew he was appraising you. It wasn't your first time.

“Ooh...” The hunter mused. “Looks like you've been through the wringer a few times.” His partner laughed, showing his complete lack of teeth. “And oh! I know what this is!” One long, finger traced the scarred line running from your forehead to the end of your upper eyelid. “Those space pirates, only they mark their stuff like this!”

You tried kneeing him in the groin but missed phenomenally. Angrily, the bastard pressed his knee into your chest, making movement impossible. “You're a little spitfire, huh?” Drawing a ragged knife, you prayed he would just get it over with. “Well, you're ours now. We'll have to change this little mark here...” With the blade held tight in his had, the bounty hunter pressed at the end of your scar and drew it over the bridge of your nose to the right side of your cheek. Your throat felt torn as you screamed both in pain and fury.

“There! That looks better-AGH!”  
  


Pushing your head upwards, you bit down as hard as you could onto the man's hand, making sure to draw blood. He shoved your down with his good arm and scrambled backward holding his mangled hand in disbelief.

“You piece of pirate fodder!” Turning to the Massif, you could tell you made just another mistake. “Don't just stand there you stupid animal! Attack.”

Your legs refused to work, even if you could run, the creature was much faster. You only had time to shield your face with your arms, hoping it would be enough to save the important organs. Teeth far longer and jagged than your own pierced the muscle and tissue of your arms, the creature was intent on causing as much damage as possible. You could feel claws and fangs and the warm wetness of blood pooling. Maybe this was it. You had survived the ambush on Coruscant only to be eaten alive by this savage beast in the middle of nowhere with no one and nothing to help you. How cruel was this galaxy? To have given you a beginning you could hardly remember and a childhood so far gone that you were reduced to some beasts next meal. It was despicable and heartless and so terribly cold-blooded, how could the universe let this happen when it was supposed to stand for good?

Your arms had begun to fall, leaving your neck exposed, the flash of the animal's white ivories was almost blinding. You wanted it to die. The bite never came. Instead, the stifled cry of a dying animal followed. Your focus remained on the Massif, the bounty hunters watched in horror as their pet's body contorted in a grotesque fashion, the cracking of bones making their blood run ice cold. When all the cries stopped, the carcass dropped heavily in the ground. Still on your back, you turned your attention to the men who had started to run. Their shrill cries almost made your stop, but the outrage clouded your mind. Within a few moments they fell next to their vile pet. All three of them a disfigured wreck.

Soon the fury dissipated, leaving you next to the three corpses you had made. Tears ran down quickly, flowing directly into the fresh gash across your face. With all your adrenaline gone, the pain set in swiftly, the reality of your actions filling you with dread. This was not a path of light.

The agony was unbearable and grew only more intense with each second. Complete and utter anguish is what had driven you silent, and now it would bring your voice back. It was impossible to hold back any longer, without waiting another moment, you ignored the tautness of your throat and screamed your cry dire and unholy. You prayed someone could hear.


	7. Orphan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din is quietly desperate on finding you after the child notices your absence. The dreadful feeling of trepidation is enough to make one lose courage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so glad my classes are manageable and fairly easy because I have time for this and art! Thank you so much for reading every one of you! It means everything to me that people enjoy something I wrote <3

Not making a sound, Din rushed through the Sorgan woods with Cara right behind him. He had decided to leave his son with Omera, when they had initially left he was still bawling his little eyes out, but if anyone could calm the child, surely she could.

It must have been their connection that somehow alerted the little one to the kid's absence. In their state, it should have been near impossible without making some sort of noise. Though in a world where there were sorcerer children maybe the impossible could become conceivable. Which meant they could have already made their way off the damn planet.

“The trail stops here...” He mused almost entirely to himself.

Cara kneeled down and pressed a finger on the dampened earth. “It's still fresh. I don't think they have much time with all the blood loss...Look, say we do find them, what do we do?”

“Cara, I think you know. And I think they knew too. I can't...I can't and I won't. It would be selling a child for money...”

“Din. Whatever I can do, I got your back, okay?”

He nodded, unsure of how to express his thanks. But he wouldn't have to, the tranquility of the early morning was smashed into fragments, by a horrific shriek that made Din shudder. The two glanced quickly at one another before taking off after the sound. It continued for what seemed like forever, scattering flocks of wildlife deeper into the brush. And then it stopped. Once again silence reigned, much to Din's dismay. Trying to hide his worry, he turned to Cara who had her nose in the air.

A tinge of green came to her usually healthy face. “I smell blood. A lot of it.”

She forged ahead, uncertainty in her gait. A looming sense of dread enclosed itself around Din; the kid better have been safe.

“SH-SHIT!”

The Mandalorian came up behind Cara who stood shakily staring at the scene of utter carnage before them. Two human bounty hunters lay strewn across the forest floor, their limbs bent and twisted at all sorts of undesirable angles, milky eyes wide with fear gaze into a different world, unblinking. Next to them, a mangled massif that had suffered the same fate as its masters. And a few yards off, the ghostly, pale body of the other child.

“Kid! Kid!” Cara rushed over, sliding on her knees to look the child over. “Oh, gods. Oh no. Come on!”

Din followed suit, though unsure of where to start to offer aide. Eyes closed gently gave the illusion of sleep, but the slew of fresh wounds proved otherwise. A long, bloody cut ran across their face ending at the right side of their small cheek. A few teeth from the damned creature were imbedded deeply in various areas accompanied by deep, gushing puncture wounds.

“I think they're dead...”

“No.” Din insisted. “Look away for a moment. Please.”

Cara gave him a questioning look, but stood and turned away.

He took off his right glove, letting his hand hover right over their mouth, the ever so slight warmth of their breath turned the corners of his mouth up. There was still life.

“They're still alive.” It was honestly an arduous task hiding his relief.   
  


“What? How?”

“I could still feel their breathing, but how I have no damn idea.”

“Carrying them could make everything worse. I can put together a makeshift stretcher, I need you to go gather any sturdy branches you can find.”

Din did as he was told, continuing to watch as Cara weaved together long marshland reeds, securing them together as tightly as possible. When it was completed, they gently moved the little body onto the stretcher and carried them as gently as they could.

Din made sure to send a villager to warn the other of the kid's state and to usher the village children somewhere while they brought the kid into Omera's home. Din perhaps was a little desensitized to the level of violence the young one had suffered, but poor Omera had to excuse herself when she laid eyes on the child. Din and Cara worked seamlessly and silently in perfect coordination. Cara carefully cut away the soiled clothing as he sterilized the medical needle and thread. Of course, bacta would have been preferable, but Sorgan had no such luxuries.

“Look,” Cara whispered, turning a weak little arm. From shoulder to elbow ran a series of numbers. “They're a slave...Damn pirates, I bet. Kri-”  
  


“They _**were**_ a slave.” Din corrected.

Once the blood had been washed away and disinfected, Din had Cara turn away as he removed his gloves to start stitching. Deft fingers slipped the medical thread through the curved needle. He hoped the kid was unable to feel anything in this state. Hours passed as he continued the process of Threading, stitching and tying off. When was the last time he had been this close to someone, he could see the blemishes on their body as numerous as the stars. His heart sank the lowest while he pulled the skin of their face together. They had already seemed so ashamed of their appearance, this seemed like just a tragic fate. Cuts, blaster grazes, burns, and even claw marks were everywhere, all in various stages of scarring.

“It's done.” He sighed, slumping to the ground. Cara sat next to him, both looking at nothing in particular.

“Do you think they'll make it?”

“Yes. They will. I think the kid senses it. He hasn't cried once since we came back. I think he knows.”

“Good.”

Din hesitated only a moment. “When they wake up, I..I'm not sure whether I want to yell at them for running or apologize that I made it possible for this to happen.”

“Mando, this isn't your fault.” Cara took hold of one of his shoulders and turned him to look at her. “No one knew this was going to happen. Only those assholes that did this are to blame, got it?”

He nodded, only half believing her.

“Though that reminds me. What happened to those guys? Their bodies...that just doesn't happen.”

“They're sorcerers. The kid probably doesn't have an idea of how to use whatever power they have.”

Nudging his helmet with a fist, Cara smiled. “Hey, why don't you go try and sleep? I'll watch em' for a while.”

Din didn't bother protesting but retreated gladly to finally go rest.

***

“Wake up. Listen! You must wake up! A good Jed'aii is never a being of sloth!”

Groaning in annoyance, you sat up, surprised to find that nothing hurt. Glancing around, your surroundings came into view. The temple? Strong and graceful pillars, illuminated by colored mosaic confirmed the unbelievable. But the temple had never been this clean, let alone decorated so lavishly. What in the hell had happened. You had fallen out of a tree and everything after that was uncertain.

“There you go, young one. I thought I was going to have to tell you again!”

Looking up, you could see Asa standing in a wash of light. Smiling you stumbled to your feet, offering a polite bow as a greeting.

“I could sense you were asleep so I ventured a visit this way, it is far easier you know.” With one hand she gripped your chin, looking into your nervous eyes. “What have you been doing, young one?”

You did not need to speak. Your mind was helplessly open to her, all-knowing and seemingly omnipresent. Rather roughly, her grip changed, and she shoved you away.

“What did I tell you was of utmost importance, young one? What did I say that you needed to follow?”

Ashla. The light.

Even in this dreamscape you could feel your knees trembling violently, finally leading to collapse. Desperately you pressed your palms into your eyes, a futile attempt to keep from shedding tears yet again.

“I thought...I thought I could trust you. I gave you shelter, I gave you nourishment, I gave you the knowledge of our people! And this is how you thank me!?”

Though you shook your head, it was indisputable that you had called upon dark energy.

“And you wonder why you are always wallowing in such misery! If you followed the light you would be safe and protected. I should have known...I noticed the Kyber you had been collecting ceased attaining a blue color at your touch. I hoped it would turn green, white or maybe even yellow, but no. No...”

Asa spoke nothing but the truth. That much had been ingrained in your mind. Your harvested Kyber at one time had been a brilliant light blue, just like the very best of your ancestors. However, as of late every shard you laid hands on turned blazing, luminous magenta. It had struck fear in your heart at first since it was so close to that cursed crimson.

Her face in her ever-elegant hands, Asa let out a hopeless cry. You had never seen her like this before. Asa had been a source of general altruism, though never love or devotion. That was your job. To be the faithful follower, being steadfast with every order and task. In turn, she had shared her knowledge of the universe, a power she called the force. Though the name was so simple yet bizarre, you could hardly accept such a title. Maybe Asa had a few cold moments when you failed or came back to the temple a mess, but she had always healed you, though it always came with a lengthy lecture. But now was a stark contrast.

Falling to her knees, Asa crawled over to you, placing both hands on either side of your head.

“Young one...I don't know if I can save you. How far you have fallen...So young...So lost.”

Lost? You were right here!

Her thin fingers ran through your short-cropped hair, finally finding your braid, yet to be adorned with a bead.

“I really thought you had a chance.” Letting out a shrill laugh she wouldn't shift her gaze from you. “Your father would and should be mourning you. Such a waste...So tragic.”

Sharp teeth bit hard into your tongue, you wanted Asa to be quiet. To shut up and stop talking forever. You weren't gone or lost or fallen! Perhaps battered but who wasn't?

Pulling your braid, Asa forced you close. “You. You are irredeemable. I cannot save you. If you come back here, I'll kill you.” Shoving you backward, your vision became black as the dreamscape faded into darkness.


	8. Mercy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally waking up, you find yourself once again bedridden. But to your surprise surrounded by the Mandalorian, his son and their friend. Your intense fear is justified, as now your future is entirely unknown.

For a creature hardly a foot tall, Din was struggling greatly to keep his son still. About a week had passed and the little baby had finally realized where the kid was. Now, Din had to keep him from trying to get close. While the child did have healing powers, a case of this magnitude was beyond his capabilities, at least for now.

“Hey, come one. Please just...Just stay still or go play with the others.” Trying to reason with the toddler was futile. Din decided to go with his final option, he had already secured the carrier to himself, so after picking up the child, he placed him in the carrier securely, making sure to strap him in. Din had to steel himself when those huge eyes gazed desperately up at him, his little lip trembling just slightly.

“It's okay, trust me.” He let his son grip his finger as hard as he could, those little claws just barely able to wrap around

“Anything yet?”

“Nothing,” Din mumbled as Cara walked in, leaning next to the cot.

“Maybe it's a coma? If it is we need to get real medical attention. Coruscant has bacta tanks, patches, and actual healers.”

“No. Greef said the client had tried to apprehend the kid on Coruscant, so they could still be there. Those hunters in the forest weren't from any guild I recognize so I don't know if or when we need to move. So far, it's been safe to be here, and when the kid wakes up, then we can make a plan.”

“I don't know. I wouldn't bet on it.” Cara stared down at the kid, pursing her lips slightly. “I think I recognize this.” Reaching down, she gently took the braid in her hand. She should have noticed it against the short cut hair. “When I was little I heard stories of great warriors, so fantastic that they were basically idolized. Though they had to regard them in secret with the Empire in power. The warriors were everything noble and good. Young ones, really young ones had to wear a braid like this so their rank as an apprentice of sorts was known.” Twisting the soft hair slightly in her fingers, Cara sighed. “I think that means those 'evil sorcerers' the Armorer was speaking of once were celebrated heroes.”

“Why would she call them evil if they were good people?” Din shook his head. “I have to make sure they don't end up becoming mindless killers or something...”

“One hell of a task to take on, Mando. You can always ask for help, y' know.”

“Yeah..Hey! They're moving.”

The poor kid started to shiver forcefully before opening their eyes. They took in a heavy breath as if they had just survived a drowning. Gasping for air desperately Din moved to keep them still before they could budge an inch. Wild eyes met his own, frantic and in a frenzy. Even with the baby on his chest, Din was gentle, only applying a little pressure and careful not to touch anywhere that had been stitched or bruised.

“It's okay, kid. Just take deep breaths. That's it. Keep breathing, keep it slow, you don't wanna choke.”

When all panic had stopped, Din backed off looking over to see Cara had moved to keep the doorway covered. Not a bad idea.

“You were out for a long time, kid. It's been over a week, we were worried you weren't gonna wake up.”

The kid regarded them carefully, studying each of them for a moment, their gaze finally settling fondly on the child. A slight smile appeared before fading. Their facial scar had healed significantly, but the sudden expression had bothered it enough to draw blood.

“Yeah, you might not want to smile for a while,” Din suggested, though, for the majority of knowing them, that hadn't been much of a problem. “Or move in general” He sighed retrieving a small cloth from Omera's medical basket. His muscles tensed as he approached again, unsure of their response, but they remained still as he wiped away the blood dripping from their mouth.

“Cara. I think I'll go bring him over to the other children.” Dyn sighed.

“G...G-Good...Good-bye.” The sound was harsh, raspy and close to silent, yet everyone turned to look at who had spoken.

A stiff hand raised slightly, waving 'so long' to Din's son to which the little one waved gleefully back.

***

For the first time in years, you had no plan, not even a stupid alternate plan to fall back on. There was nowhere else to go, or at least no certain destination, though at present you couldn't go anywhere even if you tried. Flexing your muscles was a mistake that resulted only in antagonizing your unhallowed host of wounds. Once again, you were made to lay in the small cot, though truthfully it was one of the most comfortable things you ever had the fortune of sleeping on.

On a small stool not too far away you spied a cup of water, perfect for your dry throat. It had been one word, but even so, you were able to vocalize. A small victory. Trying to quiet your thoughts, you became still. Slowly, the cup made its way over to your side and into your hand. Though unable to sit up, you didn't mind spilling a little over your face as you greedily guzzled the water down in a matter of mere seconds.

Mindlessly, you toyed with the one braid that trailed down your jawline. Part of you wanted to shear it off, the other half needed it ever so badly. No, you hadn't earned a single bead, but it was a small reminder of a future far gone.

“Was the braid your idea?”

This time you didn't jump or shrink away. The slightly muffled voice of the Mandalorian was unmistakable. Turning to look at him, you shook your head. Pursing your lips, you willed your voice to work even if it was vastly uncomfortable.

“My..M-M...Master...For y-young J-Jed'aii.”

“Alright, don't hurt yourself.”

Rolling your eyes, you scowled, possibly to his amusement.

“Listen, we need to know who's after you. Do you have any idea who it is, someone you sold to or-”

“Beilert V-Valence.” You rasped. Just saying the name was disgusting. If only you were three feet taller and had the strength of Cara you would thrash the hell out of him given the chance. Stealing a glance at the Mandalorian you wished you could see his features, but you could feel his presence in the universe...or more accurately the force.

“I'm not sure but I feel like I've heard that name before. Are you sure it's him?”  
  


You nodded furiously, not wanting to wait any longer to make things right.

“Hey, don't get any ideas. You have to heal.”  
  


Glaring at him, you clenched your jaw. “I d-don't need p-permission.”  
  


Stepping forward, he leaned down making you feel small. “Once you start getting better we'll get to making a full plan. Now-”

“W-We?”

The Mandalorian tilted his head. “You're not doing anything alone anymore, kid.”

Sitting up, you could feel the tips of your ears turn hot from frustration. There was no way in kriffing hell you would let anyone else help. This was your problem, your fight, a fight that would most likely kill you but yours nevertheless. How and more importantly why did this Mandalorian want to help. Surely he had his own issues not to mention his own son. Though forever grateful for their altruism, you certainly wouldn't allow them to help you anymore. Wherever you bag was, you could give them the Kyber you had failed to sell as payment. Of course, you had nowhere to hide or go for very long now that Asa had cast you out from the ancient Jed'aii temple. You would have to planet hop for who knew how many years before you were remotely strong enough to try and eliminate Valence.

A new life, what you wouldn't have given for a new life. A new start. One thing you had learned in your youth was that not a single damn thing was free. Everything worth having came at a steep price, even just a small chance could cost one's life. Only in your few dreams did you have clean, soft clothes, plenty of food to eat, and a sense of security. Asa had always said your tragedies had made you so much more determined and strong, but you had never desired that. You wanted to be safe.

Then what the kark was this? Was it a new start? No, a truly new start was without troubles. This was something good...possibly. But why would a stranger do any of this without wanting something in return? Everyone had their own motives. The archaic Jed'aii with their long-gone pursuit of perfection, pirates and their own sickening pursuits and this bounty hunter...

“Kid, are you okay?”

Your head shot up, “What? W-Why?”  
  


“You're crying.”

Reaching up to touch the skin of your cheek, you could feel the warmth of fresh tears pouring down.


	9. The Gifts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is before you, an offer that can change the course of your life forever. Will you take it?

You felt frozen. Stiff and unable to move. This was something good. Something good was happening to you and you hadn't asked for it or expected it, yet here it was. But if it was good then why were you so afraid.

Then came an absolutely dreadful epiphany came over you. Asa had done just this, taken you in, given you food and shelter, even if it was just vermin and old marble to lay on. But she had saved you from starvation. There still was the chance that this Mandalorian could throw you out just as easily once you no longer suited him or his needs.

No. You couldn't believe that. Believing in the fact that the man who had saved you twice, pieced your body back together and waited for you to wake up was just another deserter would only make fear fester withing you. And that was no way to be. Maybe you could give it a chance. But this was new. This was a real, living man with a real living son. Perhaps he wasn't as traitorous as the rest of the galaxy. So far he had more compassion than the galaxy had ever shown.

Still, your head was pounding, making comprehension nearly impossible.

“I-I...don't, don't u-understand.”

He seemed hesitant and afraid, that much you could tell. Maybe this was just a farce. An act of pity. He had seen you torn to shreds and close to dying. Who wouldn't feel sorry for something so pathetic?

The Mandalorian sighed. “Tell me something, kid. Where's your mother?”

What a question. For a long while, you could feel her presence. Still back at her house, full of constant anxiety and worry. Many a time you considered going back to attempt to alleviate some of her incessant pain. Though you knew that somehow you were a cause of the tension within her. Every night you pleaded with the force to give her some sense of peace.

Then there came a day you couldn't feel her at all.

“G-Gone.”

“And your father?”

“I t-think d-dead in..in Th-the rebellion. Never k-knew him”

He nodded, his full feelings still indecipherable. What could be under that helmet, or that armor? You realized the Mandalorian had never been without his metal suit. Perhaps he had some sort of disease like the plague that had almost completely obliterated all of Bespin, leaving some with terrible boils. Or, he could just be especially ugly for his kind and the mask was the only way he could insert himself into modern society.

“Kid? Hey, have you been listening at all?”

Ears perking up in surprise you smiled sheepishly. “N-No...”

The Mandalorian lightly banged his head against the wall of the hut.

“What I said is that I'm not letting you out in the universe by yourself. You'll end up dead, kid...That reminds me, you don't have a name and I don't want to keep calling you 'kid'. Is there anything from your home planet or something...?”

“N-No. Stewjon is m-mainly m-migrant people.”

He nodded, standing upright to leave. “From now on, you're Beviin.” You watched him walk out, feeling faint, but not from pain nor malnourishment.

You couldn't help yourself, but even so, it was ridiculous to be this giddy over something so simple as a name. Taking your pillow, you placed it tightly over your face before letting out a scream of joy. There was no need to alarm anyone over this. A name that was all your own! Sure you hadn't the slightest idea of what it meant, but it was yours. For a long while, you sat in bed testing the sound, letting each letter fill your mouth, so wonderful and strange.

Though enamored with the gift you had been given, boredom found its way to you. Cara and the Mandalorian had gone off to inspect the hunters in the woods while the little one was outside playing in the marshland with the children. You were healed enough where you could have joined them but Omera had made you promise not to leave the hut as not to worry your new guardian. (Or were you his?)

Thankfully, Cara had brought you your bag a while ago, still with all your effects inside. Taking it into your lap, you removed a few Kyber crystal and your spear, though after the battle it looked more like a lance. The last time you had used your weapon was fighting the Mandalorian back on Coruscant, and it had taken quite the beating, having broken into several parts. One of the kind villagers lent you a small box of spare parts, the poor man believing there was no way a simple child could go about fixing a weapon. What harm was there in giving them a few tools and wire to tinker with?

The sun had only been in the sky for a few hours leaving you with plenty of time before the adult would be back. Excellent. Clearing a spot on the floor, you set out the various wires, the hilt and short shaft of the lance and the Kyber out. With fine, adept fingers, you slowly pieced together each section of your project. No, Asa had never actually instructed you on how to make one of these weapons, but meditation and clearing of the mind had become much easier in recent times. The force guided your small hands with each step. Recalling the remnants of the temple mosaics, you tried your best to have your own look at least similar to the ancient ones. When the majority of the piece was finished, the sky had taken on a soft orange color. Sliding open the tiny chamber meant for the crystal, you took a deep breath. This was the final component. You could feel your heart beating madly in your chest, telling you to go on. Biting your lip, you braced yourself. If you lost your concentration...who knew what could happen. Closing your eyes, you reached out to the Kyber, though a crystal, you could still feel its presence within the force. Oddly enough its very existence was conscious, it was a part of the living force. Each moment the connection lasted, you could feel your energy being drained, though you knew your safety was secure. With a final 'click', you opened your eyes.

It was complete. Taking the saber into your hands, you felt a great heaviness, like the presence of everyone who had ever wielded a weapon like this had their eyes on you, watching in expectation. Shifting slightly backward you raised the saber above your head, the other hand straight out, two fingers following suit, just as you had been taught. Pressing the button you had fashioned into the shape of a star, a piercing sound greeted your ears, followed by a flash of dark fuchsia. Spinning the weapon around you could see its wild nature, the blade flickering but assuredly strong.

This was the second gift of your new life, the force having graced you with a lightsaber with no equal.

***

Evening had started to fall, blanketing the sky in a soft pink aura. Cara and Din trudged back to the village, feeling rather exhausted from scouting the immediate area and searching the corpses for any leads to Valence. The men were not total idiots, despite the fact that they had been completely decimated by a child. In fact, they had been well prepared for encountering a dangerous individual with that beast of a creature, and data pads that self-destructed when inactive for more than twenty-four hours, meaning nothing could be gleaned from the bloody scene. Their boot prints were very scattered and led to nowhere in particular leading Din to conclude that they had been dropped off rather than landing in their own ship.

The lack of progress was extremely disheartening, leaving the poor man more disgruntled than usual. Though, when he entered the village, the sight of his little one chasing children, going as fast as he could on his little legs washed away his grief. The child noticed his presence, hit long ears standing to attention, an adorable smile spread across his face, those small arms open and expectant.

Din jogged over, picking his son up and pulling him close. He had missed him very much, though it had only been a matter of hours. Using two fingers, he softly stroked the top of the baby's head, much to the little one's delight. His son gurgled and babbled for a few moments, perhaps trying to tell Din how he had spent his day. That was something he would have to start, teaching the baby to speak, though he was fifty, Din was still vastly unsure of when was the appropriate time to start doing so.

“I guess you had a good time, huh?”

“Yeah, buddy, is there anything you don't find fun?” Cara smiled. “I think this will be good for him, Mando. He's already so attached to Beviin, he'd be devastated if they left.”

“I know,” Din agreed. “They have some sort of a connection, he started crying when they ran off. It's probably their magic abilities.”

“Speaking of which, you should go check in with them. Hopefully, they actually listened and stayed put.”

Din nodded, cradling the child in his arms as he walked to the back of Omera's hut. Before he could enter, he heard something strange and then the ruffling of fabric. Crossing into the small room, he could see Beviin sitting awkwardly on their cot.

“Get up,” he sighed yet again.

“Wh-What?” They stuttered, forcing a smile.

“I said get up. You're hiding something.”

Wincing, they relented, moving to the side. Din pulled back the single blanket and tossed aside the pillow to reveal their lance. However, it had been greatly altered and shortened to the point where there was no shaft and just a handle. He was bewildered to find that it was much heavier than it looked upon picking it up with one hand.

“What is this.”

“I-I made i-it.” They said quietly, their ears turning down, with both hands, they retrieved it from Din and he let them. “It's a w-weapon.” He watched them fall into a foreign stance, with the hilt raised above, Beviin pressed a simple button, a bright, furious blade illuminated the room, making Din stumble backward. Pressing it again, the blade retracted back into the hilt.

“I don't want you having this,” He stated matter of factly, snatching the weapon. “You're not ready.”

Their mouth gaped, Beviin looking at him incredulously. In a moment, the hilt vanished from his grasp and flew directly into their small hands. Though they were probably very infuriated and trying to be intimidating, Din found it frustrating but a tad bit amusing.

“It's mine,” Beviin growled.

His son made a worrisome noise, not particularly fond of the growing tension. Reaching out his hand, Din had to keep from tensing up. “It's not your call, okay? Now give it to me.”

“Why!?”

Pursing his lips, even he wasn't fully sure. Just the thought of them carrying that thing filled him with dread. That weapon exuded uncertain strength, not suitable for a young one, but Din would never tell them that.

“Because I don't want you to have it.” Striding over, feigning confidence, he pulled it from their exhausted clutches and secured it to his belt. “Please, I don't want you to get hurt...again.”

Beviin's face fell in unmitigated disappointment, their head turning away to try to save face. They were used to a lifestyle of their own, with no rules and no authority. But they would just have to get used to it, Din told himself.

“Come on. Let's get something to eat okay?” With his free hand, he ruffled Beviin's hair, who smiled halfheartedly, joining him and the child for dinner.


	10. Roommates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, on the road to recovery, you find yourself getting closer to the bounty hunter and his little son.

Deep in thought, you trailed dutifully behind the Mandalorian, stepping directly in each one of his much larger bootprints. The unhinged criminal within you wanted to quietly slip your lightsaber off of his belt. It was yours after all and it had taken a whole day to craft and a lot of energy that you could barely afford to lose. Maybe the Mandalorian could tell, or he was just being far too strict. The aura of your saber was intense and chaotic, nothing you were unfamiliar with, so it came as a great frustration when he hadn't trusted you enough to even hold it, let alone use it. Scrunching your nose, you kept lamenting your stolen lightsaber.

Arriving just outside the Razor Crest, you could see Cara waiting for you all to arrive.

“Are you sure about leaving now?” She asked the Mandalorian.

Your ears perked up. Where was dinner?

He nodded. “Omera is occupied at the moment, and she would never let the kid leave until they were completely healed. I left her something for her help, but it's best to leave now.”

Cara nodded, stealing a momentary glance at you. Oh, Force...Any more pity and you felt like you would combust on the spot.

“I'll tell her you all say farewell. And, Beviin? I have something for you.” She picked up a package from beside her and placed it in your arms, she made it seem so light. “It's something to wear besides that sack.”

After your last beating, Omera did find you something to wear, though it was a sackcloth sheath that was very uncomfortable.

“Th-Thank you!” You beamed, giving her a bow in thanks.

“No problem. Just stay out of trouble and please...Please, just I won't make you promise, just try not to get too hurt, okay?”

You nodded surely. There was no way you were going to allow yourself to be as close to death as you had been, filled with determination you aimed to grow as strong as you could. With your new faction, who knew what you were capable of. (As soon as you got your lightsaber back.) The adults led you and the little child into the ship, showing you the quarters you would share. Cara handed both of you bowls of broth before leaving to talk to the Mandalorian outside. Part of you wanted to go eavesdrop, the other, focused your superior hearing elsewhere. There was no need to seek out more things to worry about.

Left alone with the child in your small room, you could finally try to have some sort of conversation. Clearly, this little individual had a very strong connection to the living force, perhaps if you could understand him, he could teach you where Asa had failed.

Crossing your legs and sitting up straight, you focused on the little one who set his bowl aside, having finished his dinner. “I-I am Beviin.” You informed him. He only stared up at you with his gleaming eyes, babbling aimlessly. Little legs carried him closer to you, as you watched him crawl into your lap. The child played with your hands, directing them and making them clap to his contentment.

“I suppose for now you are just a little baby.” You mused.

A familiar sensation wrapped around you, unseen and powerful. No, he could offer no words at this stage of life, but the force would be your connection, the thread that would bind you to one another. You could feel his thoughts or the ones you supposed he was offering, and in turn, you followed suit.

“A-Alright, little brother. Wh-What kind of s-story would you l-like?”

“Are you sure they're ready?” Cara inquired, trying not to wear her concerns on her shoulder. “The stitches haven't disintegrated and they're still small as a womprat.”

“Cara, I'll make sure Beviin gets plenty to eat, and don't worry. They _**will not**_ be seeing any fighting for as long as I can help it.”

“They're gonna hate that, y' know.”

Din grunted knowingly. “I do know and I have a plan. That's why I took this from them while they're still recovering.” He patted the weapon at his side.

“Well, I guess I'll be seeing you around, Mando. Be careful and don't die.”

“Gotcha.”

Placing the baby in his pod, you opened the package Cara had given you. Setting the paper aside, you raised the outfit to your body. You knew what this was. Back home when playing with friends, everyone would join in on rebels versus storm troopers, when the imperial presence was minimal. This was a standard rebel uniform, though dark in color. Perhaps it had been for special operations when it had been worn by an actual rebel. The clothing was still much too big, so you went about cutting the pants to a reasonable length and rolling the sleeves up as far as they could go. A matching pair of military boots came with the uniform, though you had no particular desire to wear them. Oh, Force. When was the last time you had worn actual shoes? Placing the boots in an unassuming spot you tried to relax on the blanket provided, while you listened to the Mandalorian prepare for take-off. It was a peculiar feeling traveling with others, knowing they were going to remain by your side.

You listened as the ship made a horrific chorus of noises a craft should never make, not exactly reassuring, but the Razor Crest took off nevertheless. The slight turbulence shifted you around, making sleep complicated. Looking over at the baby, you could see he was already lost in a deep slumber, how very lucky. For your own amusement, you took to a trick you had discovered while under ordered bed rest. Asa had ingrained into your mind the rule that the Force was never to be used for anything trivial, as it was a very insult to it. Yet, if it was then why did the force allow you to do silly tricks? Creating a small ball of cold green energy in your hands you tossed it about before shattering it into microscopic fragments of light. Often times, it aided you in focus when meditating, leading to a deeper connection with the living force. Though finding great confusion in the order of the ancient Jed'aii, it was that unceasing presence that had brought you through the worst times and the most unbearable torture.

***

With the ship in cruise mode, Din could finally relax. He slumped in his seat, his body finally able to register all the exhaustion that had been building up over the past few weeks. Maybe Karga was right, he needed a vacation, time off to himself to recover. Though there were the children now in his care, and that was something he could not let go of. Even if he were to escape for a bit of respite he would take them with him. Tending to the youngest was difficult at moments but not impossible. With Beviin, now...that was different story altogether. They could reason, argue, fight, and run, all things that had already given Din a myriad of headaches. He didn't think he caused nearly half as much trouble as they did when he was younger. Then again, this child was on the border of feral if he was being honest with himself.

The Razor Crest was oddly peaceful, only the hum of the ship could be heard, the way it had been before his clan grew. Standing slowly, Din went to check on the children, careful to slide the door open with as little noise as possible. The baby was in his pod as he should have been, the very essence of tranquility as he slept. Unlike the child, Beviin levitated above the floor, legs crossed, hands at their knees, and eyes closed.

“Kid!” He hissed.

Without warning, they dropped straight to the floor, biting down hard on their lip to keep from making a sound. Beviin gave him a look of pure annoyance before slipping past the door, Din making sure it was closed.

“You should be sleeping.” He sighed.

They shrugged, looking away. “I c-can't.” Beviin strode past him leaning against the durasteel wall and sliding to the ground. Their red eyes fixed on the endless space through the cockpit. “When do you s-sleep?”

“That's not important,” Din said returning to his seat. “You need to be sleeping. It's how you recover and stay healthy.”

“I s-slept for a w-whole week, s-sir. I don't w-want to.”

He considered offering the weapon up as an incentive but dismissed the idea in a split second. That was a plan that had far too many holes in it. “You know the kid needs you too now. I know you two have some sort of magic connection, but he's still a baby. You can't protect him if you're sleep-deprived.”

Turning to look at Beviin, he could see them regarding him carefully, studying as much as they could with his armor in the way. Din was grateful for his helmet, as it masked the slight discomfort he felt with their eyes on him for so long. Normally he wouldn't have bothered explaining his own actions, though thank the stars Omera had given him a few lessons in communicating with older children when he had finally revealed his plans to her.

“A-Alright”

Finally...

“But as long a-as you t-tell me where we're g-going.” They smiled wryly.

Kriffing hell.

“Nevarro. It's where my guild is.”

“The person w-who hired you m-might be th-there!”

Din leaned over, a twinge of sadness taking over. “I'm not going to let you get hurt. Trust me.”

And he could tell you did.


	11. Inferno

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The peace of space travel is short-lived when the Razor Crest is under attack. Will desperation bring out the best or worst in you?

Leaning against the wall of the ship, you had fallen asleep in your quarters, not far from the little child. A thick blanket covering your growing frame, slowly, but surely. Your kind was unusual, to put it mildly. Your birth mother had passed her two hundredth year around the time she sent you away for good, meaning you would look young for many more years to come. That Mandalorian would most likely continue to treat you like a child, even though you would gradually gain experience without aging. Utterly unfair.

Woken prematurely, your eyes lazily opened to see the little one tugging on your braid. “Good m-morning, little brother.” You whispered.

He cooed in reply, the braid tight in his baby hands. While traveling on public space transports, you had seen hundreds if not thousands of babies from every corner of the galaxy. He was not going to let go unless he wanted to, so you left well enough alone. The child toyed with it while you kept an eye on him, making sure he didn't knot it up. He was quite the cute little thing, His enormous eyes framed by a round face, huge ears drooping slightly on either side of his head. Placing a finger gently on his nose, you laughed as he gave a small sneeze.

“How long h-have you been u-up? I think i-it's still early. Y-You should be sleeping, l-little brother.”

Another string of incoherent babbling failed to answer any questions, but he was certainly in no mood for rest. You were unsure of his abilities, though in some aspects they were akin to your own, drawing from the same source. Asa had told you that each Jed'aii had different powers from one another, depending on their connection to the Force. But you were no longer a Jed'aii or a modern Jedi, which Cara had briefly told you about during a meal back on Sargon. No, you were not pure light, how could you be? How could anyone be? Asa was, but then why had she been so needlessly cruel? There were too many complicated questions left unanswered for you liking.

You contemplated meditating once more, to let the little one watch you, but before you could move, the door slid open, the Mandalorian standing, expressions hidden. “Good, you're awake. We have company.”

Picking up the baby in your arms, you followed him to the cockpit to see four dots on the radar.

“I'm not sure if they're friendly or not, it could just be regular transports but I can't tell.”

“Wh-What do you mean you c-can't tell?”

“Look,” he said, pulling up another image. “Those are rebel transports with the insignias scraped off. Repurposed, but I don't know by who. Valence could have easily gotten his hands on those.”

You nodded in agreement, your heart grew heavy. Peace never lasted long.

“Can you use your magic to see who it is?”

Eyes widening is amazement, you wanted to say no, but in truth, you had never even tried something like that. Perhaps it was possible, but something like identifying passengers on another ship must have demanded immense training.

“It's not magic, it's the f-force!” You protested angrily.

Still, he insisted. “We can reach hyperspace. If you can identify who or what are in those crafts.”

Stress mounting on your shoulders, you made sure not to hold the little one too tight. He still was enamored with your braid. The reminder of the path of light, the path of perfection that you had been destined to walk. Farr from immaculate you could never forgive yourself for not even trying to help. Nodding, you handed the child to the Mandalorian who went to lay him in his pod. Running your hands through your hair, you hopped in place for a few moments, trying to rid yourself of any misgivings. Maybe if you demanded your lightsaber back in order to do it, he would give it back. It wasn't as if he would know any different, for Force's sake he thought you were doing magic! Though starting a new relationship, no matter what it was, a partnership or apprenticeship, lying was not going to help.

You moved to the cold durasteel floor, crossing your legs with only a bit of pain from wounds still in the process of healing. Deliberate and gentle breaths assisted you in fixating your mind on the force. It did drain you of energy, though not enough where it would leave you incapacitated or sickly. Though it took more than it gave, you had made peace with that without hesitation. The sensation of the attachment was greatly reassuring and even mellow at times.

Having finally fallen into a steady line with the force, you could sense the Mandalorian had come back from putting the baby in bed. He was trying to ask you something but it was just unintelligible prattling. Ignoring his presence, you tried to shift your focus on the ships behind the Razor Crest. Only blurred and soft images, like watercolor paintings were coming through, frustrating but you could only try harder. As to how you were not so sure if the force had saved you from dying, sent bullets, blaster shots and enemies flying away, surely it could aid you in looking into a kriffing ship. Though the images only become more distorted, becoming formless, regressing into nothing but darkness. You wanted to scream and yell, the one time where others were counting on you and you had achieved nothing. Perhaps Asa had been right, you were fallen, a child of light that had wandered too far and tumbled into the darkness. Of course without intending to, but regardless, it still happened.

Red eyes were still seeing nothing but obscurity, unable to concentrate on anything else. In the background, you could hear someone bellowing with great ferocity, loud sirens going off, but it was all muffled. Was the Mandalorian angry that you failed, could even he tell?

Before you could contemplate the question any longer, your eyes shot open, your body tossed against the wall of the opposite end of the corridor. The shock from the impact only lasted for a few moments. You jumped up, racing towards the front of the ship to see the Mandalorian with his hands at the controls.

“Enemies.” He said gravely. The ship jolted suddenly from apparent blaster fire.

You hated flying in general but specifically for this very reason. Though many of life's horrors had been lived in a starship, you had always feared fighting in space.

“I-I'm s-”

“Go make sure the kid is okay and stay in your quarters.” He ordered.

“But I-I-”

“Now!” He growled. The little aggression he showed startling you slightly.

Running back to your small quarters, you opened the pod to find the baby awake, but unharmed and seemingly unperturbed.

“I'm s-so sorry, little b-brother.” You choked out, trying not to cry.

He tilted his head slightly in confusion.

“I tried, I-I really d-did!” Cradling him in your arms, the Razor Crest took on more damage as the next blast threatened to sweep you off your feet. You tried to place the little child back in his pod when you pried him away from your chest, he started to shiver and sob. “Please, l-little brother, don't b-be like this!”

He started to cry, but you were sure it was just for show; even so, you let him cling to you. The Mandalorian's craft had only one cockpit with standard defense systems, but there was no spot for a gunner, which you could hardly believe. That must have been why this hunk of metal was always one second away from falling apart.

With soft steps, you made your way out of the corridor, finding your way to the back of the ship. Using the loose straps on your uniform, intended for securing weapons to oneself, you secured the baby to your front, making sure he was comfortable enough. Now that you had full use of your arms, you climbed up some durasteel support rods, to look outside one of the few transparent windows to see the reprocessed rebel ships following you close behind. Four against one, not fair, but you weren't surprised. If you had been more focused or more connected, or more anything, maybe you could have detected their intentions sooner and the jump to hyperspace could have been made.

“I wonder if he hates me, little brother.” You mused. It wouldn't exactly have been a shock, you had now put the poor man and his son in danger because of your own inexperience. “I have to p-protect you.”

Gazing out the window you could discern a spike in the force. It must have been the little one. Looking down at him, he met your eyes with nothing but hope.

“Don't push yourself, o-okay, l-little brother? I'll take th-the lead.” You closed your eyes.

Letting go of the support beam you let your body fall back, not hitting the floor, you could sense the space between you and the floor. The youth in you had always been ecstatic whenever you could successfully levitate, the feeling was surreal and otherworldly. Though now was not the time to revel in the wonder of your own abilities, it was the time to save all of your asses from being blasted into oblivion in the middle of the galaxy. Your focus was hard to maintain. Thrusting an arm out helped to target the ships following behind the Razor Crest. The desperate need to protect the little one and his father was surprisingly overwhelming, causing tears to spill over, soaking your face. No, you were not sobbing, or sniveling, just tearing. From your head to your toes, you could feel the strain, but refusing to accept failure again, you remained concentrated on the enemy. Body shaking slightly, your eyes flew open, the attacking starships still seemed stable, but only for a moment.

Without warning, the four ships imploded, the energy reaching the Mandalorian's ship, sending tremors of enormous magnitude for miles. The upheaval shattering your balance. Thank the Force you were able to land squarely on your feet, your arms securely around the baby. His small ears perking up like your own, both of you taking in what you had just done. For a moment, you considered the lives you had just taken, though the alternatives left much to be desired.

Sprinting up to the front of the ship, you almost ran right into the Mandalorian, stopping yourself just in time.

“I did it. I-I destroyed t-those ships.” You informed him, unsure of how he would react, if at all.

Something in him died down, perhaps panic, though there was a slim chance it could have been anger, but your senses were far from perfect. He considered you carefully, his head tilting down towards the child.

“Why do you have him?”

“He didn't w-want to be l-left alone.”

“I told you to stay in your quarters.” He sighed, turning to return to the cockpit.

Speechless, you wondered if the Mandalorian had hit his head during the turbulence from the explosion. “And l-let them b-blast us to bits?!”

“No. I just needed a moment to make the jump to hyperspace.” Feeling the rise in his irritation, you considered leaving well enough alone, though your own patience was ready to snap.

“I-I should have b-been able to s-see them but I c-couldn't. I had to d-do s-something!”

From his seat, the Mandalorian responded. “Did you know that was going to happen?”

“What?”

“Did you plan on wrecking those ships?”

Your heart sank. “N-No...I just wanted to s-stop them.”

“Beviin...you made four whole rebel ships explode. Without meaning to. And you look completely drained. You need to be careful. From now on, tell me before you're about to do something.”

“B-But-”

“Beviin, please!”

Hands clenched at your sides, you knew he was right.

“Fine.”

*****

It had been a while since Beviin had retreated to their room alone, leaving the child up with him in the cockpit.

“What should I do, kid?” Din sighed.

His question was met with baby gibberish, adorable, but not very helpful. They, of course, had meant well, after all, they hadn't used their powers against him, but that sort of power was unhinged and unpredictable. The armorer had spoken of the sorcerers as beings of contempt and violence. That didn't fit Beviin, but they were defiant and prone to erratic duress. Din pondered how to re-engage with Beviin, preparing the Razor Crest on Nevarro. He had been a little harsh with them. His son was hopelessly attached to him, most likely due to his young age. But how in kriffing hell did you get an older child to like you?


	12. Misery Split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tension grows stronger upon the Razor Crest, each unsure of the other. The heat of battle is never far behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am getting more ideas >:))))
> 
> Also whenever this ends, idk, if anyone wants personalized stories of this scenario/story of adventures after this, but hit up my inbox on tumblr! either @spaceshipbugattii or @flowerghoull

Din hesitated before opening the door to the children's quarters, he wondered if Beviin could sense him coming. Only able to confess to himself, Din was terrified for Beviin, and maybe just slightly of them as well. Who was to say they couldn't have accidentally blown them to bits instead? The little one had actually choked Cara once, but that had only been once. Evert time Beviin had used their powers had been to harm and destroy so far. Though the innate need to protect both of them was far stronger than any of his fear.

“We're here.” He said flatly. Beviin nodded, barely noticeable as they had wrapped their blanket around themselves. “Please, if you would stay on the ship, I'm going to ask a friend for some information, then we'll see about our next move.”

Beviin, didn't reply, their gaze fixed on the wall in front of them. To make matters worse they probably hadn't slept at all. Opening the pod, Din retrieved the child, fitting him into his carrier.

“Y-You're taking him?”

“Yes, I want to keep an eye on him,” Din admitted.

To his surprise, they didn't protest or make some bitter retort, instead covering their face with the blanket and slumping lower. “Be s-safe.”

He nodded, his brows furrowed with concern, but left anyway.

The familiarity of Nevarro was always nice, at least with the Moff gone for now he knew it was safe enough to have the child out with him. He tried in vain to fend off the guilt from leaving Beviin alone on the ship, though he did feel better with the child in his arms, not having to wonder what the two would get up to if he had left them alone together. After the absolute destruction of yesterday, his son seemed to be doing fine, unaffected seemingly. Maybe Din was making too big a deal, but he couldn't be sure.

Walking into Karga's usual meeting spot, he was glad for the man's jubilant personality to take away some of the edge.

“Mando! Good to see you alive!” He laughed, hugging him awkwardly. “And I see the little one is doing well!”

“Thanks.”

“It's been a while. I thought you would have found your new target by now.”

Din scanned the area, making sure everyone was focused on their own affairs. “I did.” He whispered.

Greef gave him a disbelieving look for a moment. “What? Then have you collected the reward?”

“No.”

“What in...What happened this time?” Karga demanded.

“...Another kid.” He admitted, intervening before his friend could respond. “But they're like the child. The both have those magic powers.”

“Did you bring them here? With the amount on their head, the client will be dying to get their hands on them as soon as possible.” Greef rubbed his forehead, in incredulity.

“I brought them here because if they go with whoever wants them, they could either end up dead or in the wrong hands. With powers like theirs and the kid's, they could be used like super-weapons.”

“I doubt-”

“They blew up four ships that were tailing us on our way here.”

Greef could feel the Mandalorian's exhaustion and unease rubbing off on him. Sitting down, he looked tiredly up at his old friend. “What do you want me to do? This client will come after them.”

“I know. I also know who they are. They're a member of the guild.”

It came as no surprise that the Mandalorian had ordered you to stay on the ship while he went about his business. Maybe you really were unstable; he had never said that, with words, anyways. But you could tell plain enough that he did not trust you in the slightest. Hell, he had even taken the child with him to meet one of his bounty hunter friends. Little brother had shown you how they had met and the absolute mess he had gotten them into, much to your shock, so why were you the deadly one, the one that had to be left alone in your small quarters?

Meditation helped some, the force calming and putting your mind somewhat at ease. You wanted to cry, scream and throw a fit, but that would be of no use. Should he return and find that you made a mess, that would only confirm any suspicions that you were a threat. In the back of your mind, you pondered the idea that you might be. After all the Mandalorian did have a point. You did not exactly plan on imploding the four ships and killing all the crew members. But it was either them or the Razor Crest and its passengers. It was impossible to not compare yourself to the hallowed glory of the Jedi. Though it wasn't as if they were the pinnacle of perfection, Asa had told you herself of the early exploits of the Jed'aii, each one of them on the battlefield had slew many a living being.

A low grumble from your stomach, almost doubled you over in pain. Your constant use of the force had drained you, not exactly improving your condition. Opening the small thermos you had been given, you took in the meaty aroma of stew. You could feel your soul leave your body, reach the stars and come back. Still vastly underweight, you chugged the contents on the container, barely taking a second to breathe. Oh, Force, you missed food like this; it had been far too long. Done reveling in your anger, you tried to sleep, ignoring the rumbling outside. It was probably just another ship landing.

Consciousness left you quite readily, thank the stars. For while, there was nothing, just the sweet bliss of knowing, seeing, feeling and thinking of nothing at all, as if you had yet to be born. Though how could you miss something that you had never actually experienced, you would never know.

Then fluttering open, your eyes met a cold, callous light, flickering above you. At first you thought the ship had perhaps taken some damage, but glancing around, this wasn't the Razor Crest. Your heartbeat quickened, finding three durasteel walls and a power fueled gate, you knew where you were. Trying to sit up caused you to tumble to the floor, your hands cuffed in binders, though no ordinary ones. Fighting back a scream, you scrambled over to the power gate, seeing nothing but empty hallways and duraplast lights.

“Are you looking for me?” Whipping around, you could see him in all his vile grandeur. The Pau'an towering over you, his eyes sizing you up, evaluating your body.

“This i-isn't real!” You cried Turning away.

“Oh? Is it not?

“NO! This is just a dream and I need to WAKE UP!” Throwing yourself against the walls of your familiar prison, you tossed yourself again and again.

“Is this a dream?” His voice purred knowingly.

You didn't answer.

Waking with a deep breath, your chest heaved with effort. This time you were back on the Razor Crest. Laughing with relief, your joy was short-lived as a sudden jolt, snapped you to attention.

“K-Kark...” You grumbled. “What is it n-now?”

Glancing from the cockpit you could see a civilian transport had landed in the same docking area. After rubbing your eyes, you watched the crew file out in rows of two, if it wasn't for the average clothing, one would have thought them to be storm troopers. You were about to turn around and return to your room when you spotted a Clawdite man spin something in his hand and tuck it into his sleeve. Stopping rather suddenly, you recognized the move. You did the same when sneaking anywhere that forbade vibroblades. You had mastered that little trick from local bounty hunters when you had been marooned on Tatooine for a whole month.

Throwing the hatch open, you observed the group head in the same direction the Mandalorian had.

“KARK!” You yelled, slipping back into the ship. Looking everywhere there was not a single weapon to be found. Of course there was a rather large compartment which held a small arsenal, but what were going to tell the Mandalorian when he saw that you had opened his locked storage with the force?

For a few seconds, you leaned against the wall, contemplating what to do. On one hand you could stay in the ship like he had asked and perhaps those people were benign but your senses told you otherwise. On the other, the Mandalorian and his son would be jumped and the very thought was capable of bringing you to tears.

Taking a deep breath, you begged the force or anyone that was listening to help, and you left the ship, hoping your senses were wrong.

“Valence is a member of another guild.” Greef assured Din. “His connections are elsewhere and with those who don't leave any tracks, and if they do, they eliminate liabilities.”

“The kid said they knew it was him. I believe them.” Sliding into the booth with Greef, he could feel every fiber of his being scream for rest, to sit and not get up for at least a few decades.

“Is it possible they're mistaken? Kids lie all the time. Didn't you ever lie as a kid?”

Din rolled his eyes. “Do you have anymore information on Valence or not? I have the kid waiting in the ship.”

“No. Now if you wanted...” Karga's voice trailed off as a rather large group entered the cantina. Burly individuals of various species. One vicious looking Zabrak kept his gaze locked on them, giving Din reason enough to place his hand on his weapon.

“Gentlemen,” Greef started. “Do you need something?”

The Zabrak cocked his head to one side, observing the baby, an orange hand started to rise. Thinking quickly, Din thrust his son into Greef's arms, ordering him to run. Most of the initial blasts, ricocheted off his Beskar armor, the others hitting patrons. It was a mad flurry of blaster fire, shrapnel and smoke. Among the melee, a small, familiar voice sounded clearly. “H-HEY!”

Din turned his head, distracted from keeping a Twi'lek in a choke hold, he saw Beviin, out of breath and shaking. All eyes focused on them; his son hadn't been the target. Before he could even form words, they charged. Beviin leapt off the ground, latching on to one of the hunters, tearing off their sleeve to reveal a blade. Still scrawny and a bit feeble, Din could hardly fathom how they had this much energy. He had lost focus for too long, the Twi'lek got a hold of the blaster he had knocked out of his hand and fired into a opening in his Beskar. Din gave a strangled grunt as he stumbled over in pain. The Twi'lek must have thought him dead, because he headed straight for the kid. Scanning the room, Greef was nowhere to be found, thank the stars. His eyes fixed weakly on the cantina's ceiling, he desperately wanted to stand, grab Beviin and bolt. But all he could do was lie on the floor and watch them struggle against the horde of men until he could no longer concentrate on anything.

As soon as your hands seized the vibroblade, you knew your chances of victory had skyrocketed. Immediately, you dispatched the hunter that you had latched onto, ran across the room where a human had his blaster aimed at you. He faltered for far too long, perhaps there were some in this galaxy that actually found shooting a child to be questionable. Taking the moment the galaxy had offered, you slid under his legs and slipped behind him. Slicing at his right thigh, you snatched his blaster, spinning it in your hand before fixing your aim at the rest of the enemy. It wasn't anger, fear or even sorrow, but the foreign urgency to defend. Something pierced the meaty part of your shoulder, but it didn't matter, you just kept firing until everything was absolutely still.

“Who the hell are you?” Spinning around you held the blaster at the ready, only to see another human man, though he held Little Brother in his arms. “Peace! Peace!”

“Wh-Where's the Mandalorian?” You asked, starting to feel the pain in your shoulder.

“Mando? He just gave me the child and started to fight.”

The cantina was in chaos, everything that had been on the floor was turned over, a few fires still flickering and the smell of smoke in the air. Your feelings latched onto him; running to the back, you used all of your might to push over a table to reveal the Mandalorian collapsed on the floor. He was still alive, but injured.

“Oh kark!” You groaned hoarsely.

“Language, please there is a baby.” The man behind you chastised.

Hands tracing over the Beskar, you felt a dampness right in the opening under the breastplate. It hadn't been you who had pulled the trigger. You hadn't even seen him after the fighting started; all the blood in your body drained to your feet. The moment that you had entered must have distracted him, making him vulnerable.

“D-Do you have a-any bacta?” You managed to choke out.

“I'll have to leave the child with you but it could take about an hour or so to go find some.”

That wouldn't do. You needed something now. The placement of the injury wasn't critical, but the shot had opened a wound and given enough time, he would bleed out; and most of that time had already passed.

“Please, sir. G-Go find anything and come b-back as fast as you can!”

The man nodded solemnly before leaving the three of you.

“Oh, little brother, what have I done...” You murmured.

He made a small noise, his tiny hand gripping the fabric of your pants. The child was right. If in any capacity you had caused this, there was the possibility that you could fix it as well. Cautiously, you moved the baby to the side, making sure he wouldn't try and lend you any power. This was your doing. Slowly and precisely, you placed two hands directly over the ghastly injury, every last bit of you hoping for the best. No matter how unusual or grumpy the Mandalorian could be this was the man that had saved you not once, but twice, even after you had attacked him. You could give him nothing except your best efforts. The stress upon your body mounted with each moment, sweat and tears dripping from your chin. Then something hit you, making you gasp audibly. Looking down, you could see the fabric of your uniform grow dark with blood.

Twisting around, you found no one, but to your utter amazement you could no longer wee where the blast had hit the Mandalorian. The lesion was nowhere to be found. Pressing your hand to the new wound near the top of your ribs, you tried to register the horror of your situation.

A small grunt, alerted you, the Mandalorian waking up. Zippering up your uniform jacket, you hoped he wouldn't notice and begged the Force that his friend would make it back with the bacta soon.


	13. Love is a Murderer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's no easy feat piecing yourself together. Wit Nevarro behind you, everyone is safe on the Razor Crest. For Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :))))) so 
> 
> maybe prepare yourselves for a few messy as hell chapters because...pain

“Kid? Hey kid! Kid!” It took you a few moments to register who was talking to you before the Mandalorian's friend shook your shoulders, much to your chagrin. “Look, I found some bandages soaked in bacta-”

“G-Good.” You managed, getting to your bare feet. “I got h-him stable for now, but w-we need to get him to the s-ship” Not entirely a lie.

“Why? You killed everyone else in here?”

“I sense more coming.” Using whatever strength you had left, you pulled the Mandalorian up from the ground and heaved at least most of him on your bad shoulder. “What do p-people call you?”

“Greef Karga, and what do you think you're doing he must be three times your weight.” He propped Mando up, taking on most of the bulk, letting it at least seem like you were helping.

By the time you reached the Razor Crest you wanted to wrap yourself in a blanket and pass out, but you needed to get off this planet. After closing the hatch, you grabbed the bandages from Karga, barely knowing what to do with them. You had a vague memory from being sewn and pasted back together on Sorgan. You had been semi-conscious, but at least you knew something about first aid, even if you were faking it.

Greef tried to protest, stating your age as a reason for him to take over, but if he saw that the injury was missing, he would certainly tell the Mandalorian. The man finally agreed to making sure the baby was alright and putting him down for a nap, leaving you alone. With Karga and the baby in the other room, you pushed the Mandalorian against a wall, turning him so he wouldn't be facing you. Tossing your jacket aside and undoing your shirt, you pressed the bandages to your shoulder and chest, then wrapped gauze around both. Slipping back into you clothes, you could easily pass off for someone else's. Greef exited your shared quarters as you affixed the final bandage to the Mandalorian's non-existent wound.

“I guess you're who everyone is after now, aren't you?”

Shrugging you struggled to stand, “D-Do you know how t-to fly this thing?”

Karga laughed, wiping sweat from his brow. “No.”

Wonderful. With the Mandalorian not fully awake and more bounty hunters on your trail, you would have to fly this ship yourself, and you had no idea how. Taking what was usually the captain's seat, you took a moment to helplessly stare at the controls. Rows and rows of buttons, switches and toggles, who knew which one started the engine and which could possibly eject you from the chair. Closing your eyes, you pressed your finger hard against a random button, opening them again, a small screen read, 'autopilot engaged'.

“Y-Yes!” you cheered.

The ship roared to life, the sound of the ship shaking and rattling for once putting you at ease. It was definitely time to get off the kriffing planet.

First darkness, and then some a bright white that faded into reality. Din's head throbbed incessantly, trying to sit up, he came to the startling realization that he was no longer on the floor of the cantina.

“Whoa, Mando. Take it easy. You just took a shot to the chest, my friend.”

“Greef?” He said in disbelief. “What the hell are you doing here? The cantina-”

“Your kid came in and took out nearly every bastard that came in with just a vibroblade and a blaster. Can you believe that? I would have thought you had trained them!”

Din let Greef keep talking, standing, he trudged to the front to find the kid in the passenger seat next to his with the little on in their lap, asleep with the ship set on auto pilot. He guessed they had been cruising for some time, treading space while waiting for him to wake up. Now seeing the kid so peaceful and with their face so tranquil and without a look of panic, fear or anger...This is how children should be. Not fighting tooth and nail just to live another day or to find their next meal. It pained him wake them up, gently laying a hand on their shoulder. As soon as touched them, Beviin jolted awake, eyes wide and breathing heavily.

“Hey, hey, hey. It's okay, it's just me.” He said quietly. They relaxed, though rolled their shoulder slightly ,wincing. “Did you get hurt?”  
  


“N-No...” They sounded suspicious, though it could have just been exhaustion from fighting.

Din took his seat and switched the ship back to manual.”What happened back there? In battle did..did you...”

Beviin sighed, stroking one of the child's ears. “No. I-I didn't. I know my w-way around a vibroblade.”

He nodded, “I got shot, wh-”

“They got you in a fault near your b-breastplate.” They yawned. “Mr. Karga g-got some bacta bandages a-and you should be f-fine in another hour or two. Oh, I-I know you're n-not gonna like this b-but there more on the way. Thats w-why we had to make it back to the s-ship.”

“Oh.” From the corner of his eye, he stole a quick glance. Beviin was beyond exhaustion to the point of debilitated. Any more pressure on this child and they would shatter into a million pieces. Unfortunately, time was not on their side with Valence's men breathing down their neck, and Beviin still healing. Though what had brought them so low that they had been reduced to bones kept together by cloth bandages?

“Beviin,” Din started, testing the waters.

Their eyes, sleepily looked at nothing, “Hm?”

“Back on Sorgan...I saw your arm.”

“And?”

“I saw the numbers.” He stated. They didn't deny it, or get defensive. The kid just sat, gazing off into the vast space before them.

“I-I assumed you d-did.” Beviin murmured after a long silence. “T-thank you for not b-bringing it up right a-away.”

“They're from space pirates, correct?”

“Yes.” They nodded.

Din tried to gauge their emotions, no tears or reddening around the face. He often found he could tell how they were feeling whenever their ears moved or colored. No, Beviin was simply the picture of stillness. The little one woke, grabbing at them in apparent distress, recoiling from a light touch to the chest, they placed the baby in the small seat behind Din's, making sure to strap him in safely and give him a tiny kiss on the nose.

“I-If you don't m-mind, I think I-I'll try to sleep.” They started to turn away.

“Beviin.” Din hoped he wasn't making a mistake. The poor child was damaged enough and any sort of emotional step could be fatal. “I'm sorry.” He shakily got to his feet, walking over to the worn child, they didn't move or protest as he gently touched the forepart of his helmet to their forehead. He could hear a soft hiccup and then a sob, tired arms wrapping around his waist. They stayed close until, he could feel their body give in to sleep. Laying them down in their small room, he was relived to see the peace return to their face.

“Mando, you're a good man, you know that, right?”

“Greef, you don't know what you're talking about.” Din sighed.

His friend held up his hands defensively. “Don't say I never told you. Where are we headed anyways?”

“I was going to try Coruscant again, try to pick up some supplies. And if we run into Valence's men there's plenty of cover for an escape.”

“Won't they expect you to try and reach out for stock?”

Din huffed in slight amusement. “If they know anything about me, they'll expect that I'd go to somewhere out of the way...Buckle in, I'm going to make the jump to hyperspace.” Pulling the lever, Din was confused when nothing happened.

“Did we make the jump?” Greef chuckled.

“Shut up.” Checking the switches, everything was in order, trying the lever again, the ship remained stagnant. The drive must have been damaged during the earlier dogfight. Cursing silently Din was about to check the back when the ship's screen started to blink rapidly.

“We got company, Mando...”

“Kriffing fantastic,” Din growled.

The ship had detected a massive foreign assault ship entering their space, definitely not friendly. All attempts to move were futile as the Razor Crest lurched forward before being pulled back.

“It's a tractor beam, can you break out of it?” Karga asked, barely maintaining his composure.

Trying everything he could Din growled, “No. Go lock the door to the children's quarters, we can't let anyone find them.”

“On it.”

Din was never a praying man, but he begged the forces that be, to please let him keep his promise.


	14. His Own

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Greef have been captured, you must take action before anyone else gets hurt or killed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if this is painful at all I am so sorry! whenever I finish this series, if anyone would like to request any other adventures for the three of them to go on please message me here (if you can?) or at my tumblr @spaceshipbugattii or if you want a self insert with this series! <3

Never in your life had you felt so comforted, not even with your own birth mother. Of course she had watched over you and made sure you had clothing and food for a little while. But she had never graced you with a hug, or just a touch, even when you were crying or hurt. Just that moment when you just let go, a heavy laid burden had been made easier, not lifted, but far easier to bear than every before. That night had been the greatest sleep of your whole young life, no dreams, no nightmares, just rest and tranquility. So at peace, you barely noticed the loud sound of boots entering the Razor Crest. Had the Mandalorian found people help to assist in repairs for the ship. That thought only lasted a moment, the you heard the very firm and demanding voice of an unknown man. He was ordering a search of the ship.

Frightened and still groggy with sleep, you tried the door but found it to be locked. Not daring to make a sound, you guessed the Mandalorian had locked you in for a reason, but that meant he and Greef Karga were outside with the intruders! Turning back, you switched open the baby's pod to find him still asleep. What a rock, maybe he could teach you his methods to sleep someday when he was able to speak. Without waking him, you removed him from the pod and strapped him to you despite it causing irritation to your healing wounds. Your rest must have been short lived since you could still feel the injuries were open.

You wanted nothing more than to burst out of your room and take down everyone that had dared to threatened you and those who you cared about. Bouncing up and down every so slightly, it not only kept the little one asleep, but eased your tension if only a bit. If you had been locked in here, it must have been a for a reason besides keeping you safe, sure you were still injured, but did he know that? Could he tell? Maybe he was force sensitive or just extremely perceptive. You could hear angry shouts and what sounded like a brief scuffle until you could hear nothing at all.

It was absolutely shocking no one had tried the door to your quarters, maybe Greef and the Mandalorian had concealed it with something. There was no doubt that Beilert and his men had finally caught up to the Razor Crest, if you had just been a little faster or had known how to fly a kriffing ship, the ship could have outrun them for a little longer. Two options lay before you, each reeking of potential disaster. Remaining on the ship meant that the two men would be left to face a small army's worth of enemies while at a disadvantage, and going out to go help would put the baby in danger and could probably kill you. But up to this point everything in the kriffing galaxy was trying for the same thing. As of now the only problem was what to do with the little one.

Not willing to risk putting little brother in harm's way, you left him with a thermos of broth in your shared room. “L-Little brother, you have to let me know i-if you are in danger. P-Please.” You pressed your forehead to his. Small claws pulled on your braid and brushed softly against your scarred face. Willing the door open, you looked back at him, a sinking feeling making you feel ill.

The ship was eerily silent, only the slight ringing in your own ears could be heard, far from comforting. Dragging yourself forward, you couldn't push back the thought that this had happened before. Of course it hadn't you surely would have remembered, but the idea loomed nevertheless. Valence had been chasing you for a while now, he surely would have set up some precautions prematurely in order to make sure he caught you. This was going to require the force, yet also so much of you. Quietly sliding out of the hatch, you found yourself in an empty hangar, Greef and the Mandalorian were nowhere to be seen. The bastards must have taken them to the main deck, meaning you would have to make your way through the absolutely gargantuan craft without drawing any attention.

The hangar you were in was empty, thank the Force, allowing you to cross over to the next corridor easily, though turning a corner, you soon found yourself pulling back quickly. Two assassin droids monitored the next hallway in uniform fashion, holding weapons you had never seen in your life. They looked a bit similar to lightsabers, though definitely not exact. With no blasters, vibroblades, or your lightsaber, the force was all you had and even that was exhausted. Glancing up, you found the ship's ventilation system. For once you were thankful for your size, though small and still recovering from malnourishment, your size meant you could easily fit into the main vent. Slowly, you drew the ventilation grille and set it on the floor without making a sound, enhancing your jump, you launched yourself inside the ducting. Immediately, you began to gag and retch, the smell of the air foul and sour. And you had thought the Razor Crest was a mess.

Crawling on your hands and knees, the aroma became more bearable each moment you kept thinking about what he bounty hunters could be doing to the Mandalorian and his friend. Of course Beilert was no space pirate, though you knew his methods were still cruel. Hell, he had even made a show of stepping on your throat for his men's amusement back on Couruscant. It was pure luck that you had managed you retain your voice with only a stutter and some hoarseness. The further you went, the narrower and hotter the ducting became. Sweat poured down your face and into your eyes making them sting. Shedding your jacket, your wounds were more obvious, but that was the least of your problems at the moment.

A mass of voices attracted your attention, following the sounds, you could feel yourself become lightheaded, your vision blurring every so often. Now was really not the time. After what seemed like half a day you found yourself in the duct right over where the voices could be heard. Peering down past the grate, you could make out both of them. The Mandalorian in his Beskar and Greef in his fine clothing, each cuffed and kneeling on the ground with a horde of men behind them. And to the front, Beilert Valence.

“I know you've been traveling with that kriffing kid, Mandalorian!” He barked, a sneer making his face uglier than usual.

He remained characteristically silent, only pushing Valence's ire further.

“Maybe,” He began and he pulled Greef by the collar, “If I use your friend here, you'll feel like talking, mandalorian.”

Greef shook his head weakly, clearly having been battered. You felt like drying looking at his swollen eye and split lip. With no room in your heart for fury, sorrow took over. How many more times would these people have to suffer in your stead. Why did it have to be the Mandalorian and his family that had to suffer? And he did it so willingly, without even a moment's hesitation! Not wasting a moment, you pulled the ventilation grate off with your bare hands, jumping down, you landed hard on your bare feet, sending a shooting pain up both your legs.

Immediately, the interrogation stopped, everyone turning to look at you, then at the ceiling, then back at you. The silence was unbearable and awkward, you almost preferred they start shooting. Staring Beilert down, you squared your shoulders, ignoring the agony each part of you felt.

“Hi there.” You growled.

It was the most feelings Din had felt at once in almost the entire history of his existence. All he could do was stare as Beviin grimaced in pain from landing so clumsily, and realized the gravity of what they had done. Only someone who had been sold death sticks would be so senseless to do such a thing.

Before the Razor Crest had been boarded, he and Greef moved stray boxes in front of the unassuming door to the children's quarters. And it had been just in time as they had been boarded in a matter of seconds. He let the enemy bounty hunters take him without a fight, encouraging Greef to do the same, however, he was much quicker to anger, giving the hunters cause to beat him to the ground. He had hoped that Valence would just give up and after a possibly violent interrogation, let them go with perhaps some scars to remember the occasion.

“Hi there.” Beviin growled, their teeth bared. He could feel their anger rising. Though if they were here then where the hell was his son? He must have been back on the ship. Beviin loved him too much to put him in any danger. No one moved for a whole minute, the hunters glancing from Beilert back to the kid, each confused as to what in kriffing hell to do. Din himself was at a loss, with his hands cuffed and blasters taken, all he had was his flamethrower, though that couldn't be accessed at the time.

“About time you showed up.” Valence finally said, breaking the dreadful silence.

“L-Let them go.” They ordered.

Din could see them swaying very subtly. “Beviin-”

The kid shot him a look which took him by surprise, a cocktail of terror and anguish that promptly silenced him.

“I s-said let them go!”

Beilert strode forward, Beviin not moving back let him advance much to Din's dismay. He watched the bastard dared to grab your braid and hold it between his fingers.

“Oh ho ho! A Jedi! Now I know why he wants you so kriffing badly.” Beilert chuckled, his voice echoing throughout the main deck.

That was when Din knew an absolutely horrific mistake had been made. He could see the kid's mind working desperately, expression morphing from confusion to uninhibited fright. Beviin had realized something. Whipping around, he kicked one of the guard off their feet sending them crashing to the ground. Some of the men scattered, though to where he was unsure.

“Stop!” Beviin cried.

And for a moment he did, giving a Zabarak enough time to find his rifle and slam it into his side. Beilert raised his hand, stopping further fighting.

“I think they want you to stop, Mandalorian.” He chided. “If you know what's good for you and your friend, perhaps you should listen.” He drew a small blaster, once again aiming it at Greef who groaned and slumped further to the ground.

“I-I know what I-I'm doing.” Beviin choked out, tears welling in their soft, red eyes.

Clearly they did not. “Beviin. You do not.” He said, his voice taking on a hint of anger. “I want you to go-” The rifle once again struck him square, this time hitting his helmet hard enough to render him completely dazed.

“No!” Beviin, tossed them self over Din before the Zabarak could strike him again. “P-Please! Just let them g-go!”

He could feel small hands wander to his belt and grab the strange laser blade that had managed to go undetected. With expert slight of hand he saw you slide it to Greef who seemed to know immediately what it was.

“I-I'll go with you.”

“Beviin...” Din groaned, his heart twisting inside his chest.

Beilert leaned down, looking right into his visor. “Listen to the kid.”

“I'm g-going. Its b-better this way.” They refused to look him in the eye, keeping their gaze trained on the durasteel floor. “I don't...I-I can't let anyone e-else suffer for me.”

They had given up. All hope had completely deserted them, leaving a child staring directly into their own grave.

“You don't know what you're talking about.” He managed breathlessly.

Beviin clenched their fists tight, knuckles going white. “I'm not s-some child!”

“ Yes! Because you're _**MY**_ child!”

A whole smile. A beautiful, wide smile spread across their face, despite the tears and the long wound etched from brow to chin, threatening to split open, he had never seen such happiness brought from such utter misery. Din didn't know why he couldn't move, or why Greef failed to take the cuffs off so he could do something. All he could do was look on as Beviin stared so fondly at him, two magnaguard droids advancing from behind. One spinning their electrostaff before embedding it into his child's back.


	15. Exchange

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (someone help me tbh but)
> 
> Valence has handed you off to your former slaver, your spirits are crushed.
> 
> Din makes his mind up on what to do next

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one's a little short bc i've been having to read ancient texts for class, I'm also running into writer's block rip. so if anyone wants to help lemme know! my inbox is at my tumblr
> 
> spaceshipbugattii.tumblr.com/ask

Those words brought you to the precipice of absolute euphoria. 'My Child.' You repeated the words over and over in your mind, each time as sweet as the first. No you couldn't see the Mandalorian's face, but you were almost sure he was tearing up. But this was for the best. Climbing through the vents, you had decided to end everything. Say you successfully rescued the two and made it back to the ship. Beilert would follow you to the ends of the galaxy, especially now you knew who had hired him. If you had known before storming the ship, maybe you would have reconsidered, but this was the right move. And the Mandalorian's declaration confirmed it.

You were hardly angry when you felt the current of electricity explode all across your back. The Magnaguards stood over you, and continued to jab at any part of you that didn't already seem injured. Beilert looked on, though without his usual smirk, that had strangely disappeared along with Greef and the Mandalorian.

“This isn't personal kid.” He said matter of factly. “Everyone's gotta make their own money in the galaxy.”

Looking up at his from the floor you knew he was right. You had slaughtered many of his men in just the past few days, not to mention anyone else who had posed a threat.

When the Magnaguards finished prodding you with their electrostaffs, they hauled you up, each taking an arm and securing them in force inhibiting cuffs. In the past you would have minded, but now there was no energy left to call upon or connect to the living force. Just a single attempt could kill you. Beilert had the droids leave you on the floor, clothes torn, skin various shades of black, blue and red.

“I...I know what he's gonna do to you kid. But business is business. If you just try not to think about it and close your eyes, maybe it'll make it less kriffing painful.” So Valence did know who he was selling you to.

Only a few days of running from home and you had reached the main port on Stewjon. With no papers or identification, there was no way any New Republic official would let you on a transport, so you went about, just a wee little one, begging strangers for transportation. And you had been successful! A rather rambunctious Twi'lek had graciously offered you a ride to wherever you wanted to go. She and her brother had just finished some local work and were looking for an extra hand aboard their own small star ship for a few days. Happily, you agreed. And the first meal you had with them was your last for a long, long time. Whichever drug they had used, completely immobilized you. The next time you woke, you were on _**his**_ ship. Only when you had be left for dead on Tatooine did you realize you had spent over five years in his damned grip.

The torment had been complete and utter depravity. The first few days had been spent being 'broken in' by magnaguards, hour after hour of torture by their kriffing electrostaves. Being so young and sprightly left you angry and rebellious, fighting back every chance you could seize. Often feigning unconsciousness, you would surprise your droid captors only to be backhanded to high heaven. Then you had been brought to the the captain. The sick bastard himself, the malicious who specialized in trafficking, though thank the sweet Force he decided to do otherwise.

Having been beaten down since the moment you had been handed over, you had lost count, but never lost sight of the need to escape. You were shocked to find that after each strike, cut or burn, it healed in only a matter of hours. Your captor, Captain Cyne discovered this almost immediately, exposing his vile intrigue to see how far he could test your small limits. So instead of selling you off by the hour, he fully prepared a host of experiments to test your young body. Now he knew you were still alive, and healed, though nowhere close to completely. Cyne, the absolute sick monster he was would be ecstatic that you had lived, and would do all he could to prolong your death. Laying on the cold floor, you let your face rest in the pool of warm tears that had mixed with your bright red blood.

“We need to go back.” Din ordered. His breath had become labored and uneven, heavy with restrained emotion. The little baby in his arms let out a sound of frustration, he had been holding the child too tight for comfort.

“No,” Greef sighed sadly. “They ordered me to take you and run, Mando.”

“And you're going to listen to the orders from a kid?! They're going to-”

“I heard them. They spoke to me, but I heard it...in my head.”

Din looked at him in disbelief, slightly offended that Beviin had explained so much to Greef and not himself.

“It's over. If they found the baby, it would be sold into the outer rim slave ring. He would have chased us down no matter what and no matter where. It's over, Mando...I'm sorry.”

It had crossed Din's mind a few times whenever he saw a massive explosion, or when he would spy imperial storm troopers decimating a town. What of the children? Did some survive, and how long did they last? What of their parents? If not dead, what must it be like to lose a young one that you loved and lived to protect. Is that what this agony was, the feeling like someone had stolen a pound of flesh from his very heart.

Beviin knew they were going to die, that was why Greef wouldn't go back. Now on the way to the safest planet, Din didn't feel the need to do anything. Of course there was still the baby who needed him ever more with Beviin gone. Even he was very quiet, not babbling or gurgling, the little one just leaned into Din's touch, his ears drooping. By this time Beilert's ship had made the jump to hyperspace and could have gone anywhere in the whole galaxy. He was somewhere among the stars with his child who would be stripped of all freedom and enslaved, for the second time.

His child. His absolutely rambunctious, high-spirited child.

Din prepared the ship for landing, careful of the moist, swampy landscape.

The answer was simple. There was no doubt that Beviin would have stood for this had he or the child been taken. Yes, he was sure had he demanded Beviin leave him to die, they would have flat out ignored him and torn apart the universe just to get him back.

Laying in total darkness, breath shallow, chest just barely rising and falling, you were falling in an out of consciousness. Turning over on your stomach, steel met your cold skin. The hum of the electric gate, was familiar. You knew you were back on that cursed barge where you had been robbed of every facet that constituted a childhood. Cyne would spend however long having his fun at your expense until you expired. But this time you had something special to lessen the pain.

“You're awake.” Someone said coolly.

You didn't bother looking, and honor him with just the slightest bit of attention, plus he was just plain hideous. The grotesque Pau'an walked painfully slow over to where you had been laid, looking you over, inspecting and appraising.

“My, my...There's still marks from the last time! Unfortunate, but poses so many more interesting questions.” A smooth hand grabbed your chin, squeezing it tightly. “Look at you! What a becoming little thing! I'm sorry I mangled you so badly, but alas, I suppose I'll have to do it again. But this time I'm getting paid!”

Raising an eyebrow, you wondered what in hell he meant. Wasn't he the buyer that had commissioned” Beilert Valence?

“Oh you must be worrying about Valence. I paid him heavily but I'll be making so much more when I deliver you to your new...master.”

“Wh-What?” You croaked, almost vomiting from lack of moisture.

“Sadly, I cannot have you for very long, but I'll make the most of our time together. Where you are going, no one can follow.”


	16. Apprentice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back in your old hell, you are on the brink of giving up all hope. Meanwhile, Din tries to find his bearings, unsure of how to cope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry this took forever! I have writer's block and I had to read these old texts for class which was really boring but anyways
> 
> my tumblr inbox is open @spaceshipbugattii (drabble requests or just to talk!)
> 
> If anyone wants more adventures or personalized adventures of this concept whenever I finish it let me know <3

“Mando, the baby won't stop crying and I've been bouncing him for an hour now.” Greef complained, his bruised eye making him look more annoyed than he probably was.

Din crossed over, taking his son from his friend's arms. Gently he rocked him, whispering soft words of affirmation and security. At least he could offer such comforts to one of his own, but still the little one cried. “It's their connection...” He mumbled to himself. Din doubted there was anything he could do for the child, this being far beyond his own skill set. After a ration bar, some broth and then milk, he started to settle down enough so Din could place him down to sleep. Falling back into his captain's chair, he almost slipped his helmet off, but refrained, remembering Greef was still there.

“I'm going after them.” He said softly, though with conviction. “I'm not asking you to come. I can fly back to Nevarro when the ship gets fixed.”

Greef sighed, putting a hand on Din's shoulder. “Mando, they said not to go back no matter what. Or at least that's what they told me, though..magic..I guess. But if you really are going after space pirates by yourself and with a baby, you'll die. I'll call Cara. You're gonna need all the help you can get.”

Your body smeared blood, staining the durasteel floor. Clothing torn, almost sheared off, the rebel emblem on the center of the chest had been torn almost directly in two. The single magnaguard kept its tight grip on your choppy hair, numerous strands tore out, only worsening your headache.

“Here. Bring child here.” Cyne ordered. The droid picked you up easily by the neck and pushed you harshly onto a stiff, duraplast chair. “Do you even remember you last time here? I wouldn't blame you too much if you didn't.”

Barely able to stay awake, you still found the energy to glare at the kriffing ass. Extra bindings emerged from the chair, holding your legs, neck, and head flush.

“I always wondered why you were able to heal so quickly...” A nurse droid appeared from a corridor wheeling in the dreaded trolley piled high with Cyne's favorite tools. You tried your hardest not to cry, trying to preserve yourself to avoid premature dehydration. “I should have known you were a Jedi. Though I don't see your...ah...lightsaber? Were you still training? Not strong enough yet?”

The Pau'an gave a broad grin, his piercing eyes observing you eagerly. Trailing you from your ties to the top of your head; you prayed he would kill you. Undergoing anymore humiliation was far worse than dying young. Cyne waved his hand over the trolley, selecting a rather fine tool in his long hands. “You new...lord...tasked me-no! Graced me with the task of breaking you in. Though there will be a little something at the end which I am almost sure you will adore!”

Despite your eyes remaining open, your mind deserted your body, going elsewhere to maintain sanity as the kriffing pirate made the first incision.

Your first time, you had been so much stronger, though much of that had to be attributed to the others that had been captured. No, you had not been alone, just one of about a dozen other children that were kept in tiny cells on the pirate barge. Most of the others decided to keep themselves as far away from you as possible, not wanting to take any chance in getting roped in to one of your many escape plans. Though, there was one child that would slip you strips of her clothing through the bars of the cells to provide pressure on the wounds of your many punishments.

“You must stop acting out like this, child...”

“Child? We've gotta be like the same age!” You protested, though gratefully taking the strip of your comrade's robe.

“I may look young, but I do believe that I am far older. Besides, my master always said I am very mature for my age.”

“That's only cos' you have that fancy accent and you're tall, Pallas.” You growled. The gash in your leg was severe for the moment, but like every other one, it would close in a matter of an hour or two. Your only friend on the barge had noticed this over your shared time in captivity, speaking more and more with you when she could. It didn't help you did your absolute best to raise hell at every turn, giving Cyne more incentive to delve deeper into his curiosity of your anatomy. Though sick, you found yourself grow slightly accustomed to his operation. They lacked any sort of numbing or anesthesia, and the Pau'an completely disregarded using bacta of any sort. He loved to watch as each wound he expertly made would heal on its own. The agony was excruciating to the point where within minutes you would black out from the overpowering sensation of pain, crying when he yanked out a fang, or cleave a limb. It was altogether surreal watching yourself become whole again, unable to stop your captor form repeating the process and tossing you back into your cage when he grew tired.

You had learned to avoid crying until you threw up as it had been custom for Cyne to deprive the children of food and water for at least three days at a time. Only Pallas would pay you any mind, always there to talk your ear off as you lamented your injuries.

“Master Eerin once had a wound like that. Make sure to keep pressure on it until bleeding stops.”

“Yeah, yeah! I know!” You grumbled, wiping layers of sweat from your gaunt face. “I'm sure you master taught you _**everything**_...”

She glared, obviously wounded by your words. “Well maybe if you had a bit more control and weren't such a little imp, I could teach you some things if I had these cuffs off so you know more than just putting yourself back together!”

Pressing your head against the rusty prison bars, you bared your teeth, amused at Pallas' fright. “What the hell is that supposed to mean.”

The Mon Calamari girl scooted back to the other side of her cell, eyes wide, but she did not back down. “You...are like me.” She glanced around making sure the other imprisoned children and the magnaguards were occupied. “We aren't like the others. We are chosen.”

Your ears perked up, “How in kriffing hell am I in any way like you?” Shifting back, you kept your eye on one of the guards who had its head turned just slightly in your direction.

“We have a connection most don't. Well, more like a stronger connection than the average being. Its a power that helps you to heal so swiftly and why that pirate has these special cuffs on me. The good thing is that the dreadful scoundrel hasn't figured you out yet. Perhaps you can try to get these off. Hm?”

Shaking your head, you couldn't help but laugh. “Did Cyne you something on you? Or did you hit your big head again? Kriffing hell! I knew there's prison madness, but I didn't think it did stuff like this.” Wiping a tear away, you were put off by the devastated look on Pallas' face. “I don't have any sort of power...trust me. My mother said it's just our species.” Leaning against the wall, you begrudgingly took solace in the fact you could still feel her presence.

“Oh and what of her? Is she educated? You smell like you're from the outer rim and the cadence of your speech is terribly raucous.”

“I don't know her. I mean I do...but she stopped loving me, so I'm not sure I ever did...”

“Oh...”

“Is a Stewjoni accent really that bad?” You asked, stealing a glance at the guard who had at some point left.

“...What?” Pallas' voice became uncharacteristically soft.

“Uh, my accent. I'm from Stewjon. Or that's where my dad is from. I didn't know him but I guess he left my mother there.”

In all honesty, you weren't sure if Pallas was staring at you in shock, and you had no time to ask. The magnaguard had returned, switching the gate to your prison off. It yanked you off the ground by the collar of your soiled shirt, immune to your fury of kicks and punches which only worsened your sorry state. So continued the depressing cycle of maltreatment, and slowly, the cells lost their occupants, Pallas falling last, leaving you to revel in Cyne's undivided attention. His ghastly experiments persisted, each as excruciating as the last. Eventually, your wounds lasted longer, taking more time to close and heal. At some point the pirate assumed you had died, tossing your little body off near the closest star system.


	17. Mission, Start.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With his friends back by his side, Din prepares to rescue his stolen child. Once again in the grip of your torturer, his purpose grows clearer.

Though he had been sentenced to mandatory rest at the strict request of Cara, Din found that he could do anything but sleep. Cara had promised to take care of the baby and of the repairs, making sure to avoid using droids. Greef would assist, leaving him to have time to himself, which is what he both craved and dreaded. Din was overwhelmed with a concoction of emotions, all of them coming together, rendering the poor man almost immobile, confined to his bed. Fury pulled him towards violence, while an intense sorrow born of loss begged him to mourn. And then there was yearning to protect Beviin, though he hadn't the slightest idea of where they were or if they were even still alive. But if they had been killed, his son would be in hysterics, they did have some sort of connection which he couldn't discern, and Din didn't think either of them could either.

Flipping to his side, he picked up the hilt of the weapon Beviin had crafted. It was slender, though had a bit of weight, easy enough for a child to hold and if he had practice, Din was sure he could eventually master it if he truly wanted to. But he didn't. When Beviin had activated it, the blade had erupted from the hilt with such fury, a stray spark had left a tiny dent in his Beskar, leaving him slightly shocked that something had managed to actually damage his armor. What seemed like forever ago, Din had learned that almost nothing could break or damage Beskar, including laser swords used by those evil sorcerers, but why could this one?

He grazed over each grove of the hilt, taking in the strange design. The kid had embellished the hilt with little shards of leftover Kyber, varying in color, placed deliberately making each look like a tiny star. It was beautiful, but still worrying. Din placed his finger right over the button at the middle, adding just a fair amount of pressure, the blade burst forth, the fierce sound sending a shiver down his spine. The brilliant mauve color illuminated the entirety of his small quarters, the glow warming his cold face. Pressing the button once more, the blade retracted back. Din still held it tight, holding as close as he could to his scarred chest. And with a little patience, exhaustion finally let him sleep.

Come what was most likely morning, Din felt a bit rested, having enough spare energy to clean and polish his armor, taking special care to make Beviin's weapon shine before attaching it to his belt. Coming out of the main hatch, he was greeted with a small hug at his right ankle. Picking up the child, he gently pressed his forehead to his son's.

“Did you actually sleep or did you make a plan the whole night?” Cara prodded lightly.

“I slept.”

A smile spread across Cara's face. “Good, because I've got the plan! Some of a plan, but still.” Whipping out a small map from her belt, a small holo of the planet flared to life. “I'm not entirely sure what the name of this planet is, honestly I forgot a whole lot, but this is pretty close to New Republic territory. I used some of my spare parts of the X-Wing I kind of 'borrowed' and fixed your ship up the best I could.”

“But is it stable?” Greef sighed.

“Stable enough.” Cara admitted. “We can find Beviin. Besides, we have your kid.”

The little one's adorable green ears turned up. Cara gently used two fingers to pat his head.

“All three of us can do this. A space pirate took them, right?”

Din nodded solemnly.

“There's nothing a pirate can resist more than Jedi artifacts. That lightsaber, the idiot won't be able to resist.”

Greef stood, leaning on a damp stump for support. “And how the hell do you know this?”

“Old contacts. The New Republic has great interest in anything related to the old order, anything related to the Jedi. Everyone in New Republic territory knows something like that could go for...thousands and thousands of credits. The only thing that's worth more is something called a..Holocron.”

“So we use the kid's weapon as bait and wait for the pirate to show up?” Din asked. “How do we broadcast that we have it? Besides, they know what I look like.”

Cara nodded, “I have a friend on Bespin who is going to hold an auction for the galaxy's elite. There we can offer it up. Whether the pirate tries to steal or buy, it will at least give us the opportunity to get Beviin back.”

Din cradled the child, swaying ever so lightly. The plan was full of liabilities, not to mention Cara and Greef would be returning to a system where they were wanted with hefty prices for their heads.

“Will...You both don't have to help.”

Greef exchanged looks with Cara, “Mando, you gotta let people help sometimes. We both want to help get your kid back.” He placed a hand on Cara's shoulder. Both nodded in agreement.

“Alright. Let's go.”

A strange pulsing sensation gradually woke you from a restless coma, the familiar warmth of blood trickled down your face, piling on top of what had already dried on your lap. Head bobbing involuntarily, muscles twitching and moving on their own, you realized much to your dismay, you were still alive. Cyne hadn't carved you open like before, instead he had removed most of what remained of your clothing and had began the startlingly intricate work of engraving complex designs into your skin, deep enough, that when they healed, they would still be clearly seen. The marks trailed up your left leg, to the same side of your face, knowing the bastard, there was no doubt he would return soon to finish his work. Just moving made each cut sting, splitting the ones that had started to heal open. Letting out a feral scream, your dry throat begging you to stop.

“Ah! I see you are fond of my work!” Cyne chimed, emerging from a corridor. “I was going to continue, but there has been a change of plans!” He produced a slim vial from the folds of his robes, a shining red liquid glimmering in the fluorescent light. “There's something that your new lord wants me to retrieve, but I think I would like to skip a few steps and have you...help.”

Cyne carefully removed the muzzle he had secured to your face after the rather rash attempt to bite off his kriffing fingers. But now you had hardly any energy left to resist. You watched helplessly as Cyne took a needle from the tray next to you, and drained the vial. “This, may hurt a little at first. But trust me, my love. When it's over you will feel so much better.”

Your breathing turned heavy and labored as you failed to move away from the approaching needle. Part of you hoped and wished that at any moment the Mandalorian would come bursting through the bay doors, Cara and his friend Greef at his side, ready to annihilate Cyne and his magnaguards. But he wouldn't. You had made Greef Karga promise to not let him come back in order to protect himself and the baby. Instead, fate left you to imagine such a rescue as Cyne plunged the needle in your arm, forcing the red serum into your veins.

Cyne had been unexpectedly frightened when the young one started convulsing wildly, eventually coming to a sudden stop. Their little head hung limp to the side, mouth ajar, eyes turning a milky shade of gold. His employer hadn't actually informed him of what the serum would do except just to inject it. He was almost ready to eject the body into space when he could see the incisions he had expertly made heal almost instantly, the skin pulling together and scarring in a matter of seconds. Color returned to the child's cheeks, their chest starting to rise and fall in a routine fashion. Dark pupils shot towards him, focusing on him instantly.

“You...How do you feel?” He breathed.

The young Jedi sat upright, letting their shoulders fall natural, their back lengthening and head rising almost proudly. They said nothing, not letting their focus waver in the slightest, Cyne skirted around them, only a little concerned when the child's eyes followed his every move.

“I...I suppose it worked.” He sighed, pressing a button on the back of the chair. They made no attempt to jump or attack, they simply remained still. “You may rise.”

At his request the kid stood, though very small and still a youth, all remnants of innocence and personal identity had vanished. The Jedi had been made moldable and pliant, healed and ready for their new master. Cyne admitted to himself he was starting to regret his decision to take on the task of bringing a force sensitive youth to some deranged acolyte of an ancient religion, but the payment would be more than he could have made in his lifetime thus far. He was tempted to cast away the guiding device his employer had provided him, the energy surrounding it put his soul on edge.

“We have a mission to accomplish before I deliver you, child.” He regarded them carefully, their detached state only enhanced by their disturbing eyes. “I'll find something to cover your face...In the meantime my guards will give you proper robes so you shall be ready for our small detour to Bespin. Do you understand?”

“Yes.” The child said flatly.

Cyne was quick to leave the room, ready to remove himself from their golden gaze. He pondered for a moment if he should have left their dying body where he had initially left it back in the outer rim.


	18. Sentinel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, the party puts Cara's plan into action. With the help of a friend back on Bespin for a short while, hopes are high.

“A lightsaber is one of the most deadly weapons in the whole universe, you shouldn’t hold it like its a toy.”

Din was glad his mask covered his flushed cheeks. He stopped twirling the hilt in his hand and retirned the saber to his belt. Though it's energy was disturbing, the weapon did feel nice to hold. They would have to be extremely cautious and keep an eye on it at all times, Din wasn't fond of the fact that it could damage his armor.

“I still think we should make a decoy.” He sighed.

“We don't have enough time for that.” However unceasingly strong, Cara did seem more nervous that Din would ever expect her to be. “There is an auction already in session. As soon as we arrive, I have a friend who will bring a change of clothing for Greef. He'll be the wealthy seller, making you and I his guards.”

“What about my kid?”

“My friend can take care of him for the time being.”

Din clenched his jaw, hard enough to make a clicking sound. “I don't trust a man I don't know to take care of my son.”

“Do we really have a choice?” Cara grumbled. “He can't be left alone.”

Din prepared the ship for landing, following the directions of the Bespin escorts. Once firmly on the ground, Cara left to go meet her 'friend', leaving Din to his routine maintenance before her return. The child was still asleep when he went to check on him. Those sparkling eyes, closed, and his little nose twitching slightly every now and then. Inadvertently, he stepped on something, picking up a small pile of fabric, Din could see Beviin had finely torn off the extra bits of cloth from their clothes and stitched them together into a soft, padded carrier for the child. It was fine work with such shoddy materials, but still well done. They had even sewed on a flap to cover the top, though made sure to leave cut outs for breathing and ears.

A little gurgle had Din smiling softly, big eyes staring at him curiously. “I don't think will fit me.” the little one blew a small raspberry, unexpected, but still amusing. Though by tugging lightly, the straps shifted, lengthening. “Well...Maybe it will.”

“Mando! Greef! I'm back!...What are you wearing?”

Stepping down the exit ramp, Din adjusted one of the straps. “It's a carrier. For the child.”

Cara raised her eyebrows, observing as the Mandalorian turned to the side, showing the baby peeking through the top of a stitched and woven wrap carrier. He seemed comfortable as he nuzzled his face closer to his father.

“Well...I was going to have my friend watch him, but I guess that works too. Mando, Greef, this is Lando. Lando Calrissian.”

“Any friend of Cara's is a friend of mine!”

If smiles could blind, Lando's surely left many sightless. This man surely had the brightest teeth in the entirety of the New Republic. Handsome and extremely well groomed, Din found himself fortunate that he happened upon Beviin's craftsmanship. There was no way in hell this man would be able to keep his son within sight, his eyes seemed to wander every now and then to Cara and Greef, desirably.

Din nonchalantly refused Lando's hand, moving past to stand next to his friend.

“Mando isn't much for small talk.” Cara offered, giving Din a subtle nudge.

“That's alright.” Lando smirked. “Some people tend to get a little nervous when meeting me for the first time.” His fine garb billowed with every movement, giving the impression of wings. “Now come, we have some work to do.”

He could hear each little breath his son took, the small child tucked snugly at his side. Maybe others could hear, though he had grown accustomed and even fond of listening to him. If anyone did ask, he could pass the sounds off as his own. Din was very thankful the baby hardly moved as he and Cara walked uniformly at either side of Greef. Now dressed in bright robes, bedecked in brilliant gems, Greef Karga was the very picture of refinement, having the airs of an excessively wealthy merchant. In his gloved hands was a delicate durasteel box, with the sale item locked safely inside. In front, Lando Calrissian led with effortless grace, presenting the four of them into the whitest room Din had ever seen. Save the people, everything was a immaculately alabaster. On top of large dining tables covered in a thick cloth were countless displays of jewelry, historical texts, artwork, and weapons with the sole purpose of catching the eye.

“You can place your piece wherever you like, as long as there's an empty spot.” Lando explained. “Socialize, mingle with the other guests! Besides,” he smiled, taking a delicate glass from a server, “It would look unfit to ignore potential buyers.”

Lando sauntered off, catching the attention of a becoming gentleman.

“Well, I don't know about you guys, but I think I'll have a few drinks.” Greef set the box down and followed Lando's example.

“I don't like this.” Din exhaled, “And I don't think the kid does either.” It was true. Through his armor he could just feel squirming and the delicate vibrations of babbling. Din had him fed, changed and he had just been resting, so there really was no other possible explanation.

Cara nodded to their left. “You have to keep him quiet. That rich snob over there keeps looking at us.”

Sure enough, Din caught eerie eyes starting back at him, calculating and examining him without moving.

“He's been doing that for the past few moments.” Cara said grimly, unsurprisingly uncomfortable in her own disguise. “Though he could just be interested in buying.”

The man did seem wealthy, even more so than the Utapau citizen with a few magnaguards shifting about, Din watched uncertainly as a much smaller individual reported to him.

“Here he comes.”

Sure enough, the very tall Pau'an strode over to where the two stood, a polite smile spreading across his grey face. Din could feel his little one's squirming increase, forcing him to move his supplied weapon to cover the little carrier. Cara shot him a nervous look, one he was unable to return.

“I see you have something for sale.” The man spoke far too knowingly. “May I?”

Din stepped forward, placing himself in front of the box.

“I'll take that as a no. But may I dare inquire as to what it might be? Surely a rarity if it has been approved to be showcased here.”

“It's an old Jedi artifact.” Cara stated. “Very rare, which is why we must keep the casing closed.”

“I'll buy it.”

Din furrowed his brow. “You don't even know what it is.”

The Pau'an raised his head, placing a massive, elegant hand on the shoulder of his small escort. “I said I'll buy. I have the credits right here.”

The little escort moved with exact precision, black, gloved hands retrieved a large box, upon opening, revealed a wealth of New Republic credits. Though clothed well in fine, obsidian trousers, tunic and matching boots, he could see them struggle to hold the box. Their arms shook too much for his liking.

“Mandalorian, I'll let you discuss the terms, I'll be right back.” Unfortunately, Cara left, leaving out the corridor they had come in.

“How much is here.” Din asked.

The living guard shut the box, handing it back to one of the guards.

“More than enough I assure you. You will find that New Republic credits are worth far more than any of its predecessors.”

The little one's movements become more rapid and even violent. Under his helmet, Din felt sweat beading at his forehead.

“Let me take a closer look at the credits.”

The Pau'an turned to his bodyguard who once more had difficulty handling the case.

“Aren't you a little young to be a guard?” The Mandalorian offered.

Though most of their head was covered by a elegantly layered mask, he felt a tightness in his chest as he moved closer.

“They will do their duty, now have you had your look?”

Before Din could process his next word, a wild symphony of screams alarmed everyone in the elegant suite. A shrill shriek from the carrier accompanied by a yell that could demand attention across any battle field, made Din's adrenaline spike.

“DON'T! IT'S HIM!” Sprinting toward him came Cara, a blaster drawn. “ _ **You**_!” She growled, pointing her weapon at the buyer. “Where are they!?”

“Cara, ho-”

“His ship! It's in one of the lower docking bays. Lando's seen him before and he's the only damn pirate here.”

The Magnaguards drew their electrostalves, inciting Din to move to an offensive position.

The Pau'an sighed, unbothered by his blown cover. “Child, take it.”

The guard raised a hand; from his belt, the lightsaber flew from his utility belt into their hand. Din had never placed it in the casing.

“Beviin.” He breathed.

The pirate gave Din a pitiful glance, “I was wondering if you would notice at all.” He shed his formal finery, glad to be rid of it. “Come, child, hand it to me.”

“Beviin,” Din tried. “You didn't seek me out? What are you doing?”

Cara took a hesitant step forward, still keeping an eye on the damned pirate. “Beviin, it's us.” No response. “Mando, I don't think they remember us.”

“Child, I won't ask again. Don't bother with them. Your new lord locks nothing except for patience. Now come here!”

The child made no movement, standing unnervingly still. After a few seconds, they looked down at the weapon in their small hands. Their shoulders began to shake rapidly as the strangest, most haunting laugh sounded throughout the hall. All eyer turned to Beviin whose body shuddered as their howl finally settled. In complete silence, those gloved hands slowly removed the mask. Burning, gold eyes were glowing bright against their pallid face, and to Din's horror, he saw their veins flaming red, wherever skin was visible.

Trembling lips parted slightly, “It hurts so much...and I can't stop it!”


	19. Blockade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cyne is no longer in the way, leaving you with a path drenched in darkness. Still, there he stands, refusing to let you go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> its short and i wish i had people to bounce ideas off for this. But I have like a bunch of ideas for "side quest' stories/oneshots for this series tbh

“I...I'll make you bleed!”

Beviin strode forward, willing the pirate to his knees, seizing his collar, they hesitated, their breathing labored and quick. With a cry of frustration, the older child nailed the Pau'an in the stomach with a unrestrained kick, sending him crashing into elaborately decorated tables. Merchants and guests fled the room, grabbing their valuables, even trampling each other to make their escape.

“Beviin...” Cara started softly, “Please, you have to stop.”

They turned on the heel of their shiny black boots, teeth bared. “Who the hell is that?! Who is Beviin?”

Unnerved, Cara kept her blaster ready, not backing down. “It's you. You're not right! We can help you!”

They shook their head, “I don't know you.”

Cyne had started to regain consciousness, slowly picking himself up off the ground, shards of glass digging into the palms of his hands. That damned acolyte made a promise far too great, he should have known better. What a fool he had been for making a deal with the crazed follower of a malevolent creed. Cyne could try and use the locator he had been provided with to try to strike back at the commissioner, though is this child was to be a sort of apprentice to the acolytes and their lord, he was better off getting onto his ship and never looking back. With what money he had hoarded thus far, he could find some place on the outer rim, and live a less than luxurious life. All his crawling ceased as Cyne could feel himself pulled backwards, violently.

Dragged across the ground, he once again found himself at the foot of the young apprentice, bloody and desperate. “Please!...I...It was just a job!” They furrowed their brow, only enhancing the uncanny glow of golden eyes. All of them were like that, and he absolutely hated it. “Let me go! I'll give you...half of my credits!”

“What did you do to me?” Their voice was cold, and void of any and all sympathy. “Why won't it stop?!”

“I-I don't know! He gave me a v-vial! I don't know what was inside of it I promise! Truly!”

The child simply rolled their eyes, twirling the hilt of their weapon in their small hands before the blade burst forth, swiftly severing him in two.

“Shit...”

Again, Cara advanced, taking soft steps, extending an arm to keep the Mandalorian back. “Kid? Hey.” She was able to place a hand on their shoulder, an instant exhaustion washing over. Able to keep her knees from buckling, Cara kept her hand where it lay.

“What have I done?” The child whispered, facing her. “I can't..I can't! Everything hurts! My head, my body, my mind!”

Cara contemplated backing off as Beviin's hand started to grip their saber tighter. Just touching them had given her an intense fatigue.

“We can help you.” She tried, glancing over at the Mandalorian who had slowly inched forward.

“You're strangers-”

“No we're not!” Beviin began to shrink back, finger sliding towards the activator switch. “Please, you have to trust me, trust us!”

Beviin paused, looking both of them over before their ears perked up. “Who else is here?”

“What?”

“Who else is here? You're not alone!” They accused. “Never mind!” Beviin tried to storm past into the exiting corridor, only to have Cara and Din block the way.

“Sorry, Kid. I can't let you go.” He apologized.

The world was blood soaked. Everything in a dark red hue making your head spin. As soon as enough of the serum had entered your body, the puncture healed instantly; not all had been injected. Though even now facing the Mandalorian and his friend, you could barely resist the urge to strike both of them down, it would have been so very easy.

“Move.”

He shook his head, widening his stance. At some point in your life you had known both of them, though that was all. No other memories existed, save the moment the Pau'an jammed the needle into your arm and hell ensued. Without knowing who you were and are, a sudden need to follow the unusually green wayfinder device to its destination ensued. Something had convinced you that the pirate had no intention of delivering you to his employer after securing the Jedi artifact.

Upon touching it, letting the weapon go was not a possibility. Surely at some point it must have been yours, the lightsaber now your lifeblood.

“I said move.”

“No.” The Mandalorian tried again.

Without any warning, you cast both of them to the side, each landing roughly to the ground. A small cry kept you from leaving once again. Turning to where you had thrown the Mandalorian, you spied a small green creature crawling from a satchel at his side. A baby. Your breathing stopped for just a moment, watching the little one stumble to it's tiny feet before looking over at you expectantly. The recognition in its eyes was doubly frightening. The child waddled over to you eagerly, his little teeth visible in his joyous smile. Only a tiny green hang grazed your ankle, sending a shocking sensation through your body, making you stiff. He scampered back, alarmed by your visceral reaction, letting out a startled whine.

“I-I'm so sorry!” Tears welling up in your eyes, you could wait no longer as you sprinted for the pirate's transportation barge. Only that green baby had moved, leaving the Mandalorian and Cara sprawled on the floor, unmoving.

Din sat up, his head spinning and throbbing painfully. Scouting his surroundings, Cara was coming to, brushing off shards of debris from her arms and face. A few yards away lay the pirate's bisected remains, his eyes open and staring and nothing in particular. Din could remember flying through the air for a brief moment, taking the initiative to turn so he wouldn't land on his son, but the impact had rendered him unconscious.

“Mando...” Cara croaked. “Where's the kid?”

His hand patted his side, finding the carrier alarmingly empty. “I don't know!” Finding his footing was unexpectedly difficult, his muscles suddenly wrought with exhaustion and soreness.

“Same here.” Cara sighed, propping herself up by her arms and then hoisting herself to her feet. “Beviin touched me and I just felt like I'd been back in the middle of the war, just without ever sleeping.”

He was only partially listening, shoving aside broken tables and chairs, scanning the area for any sign of movement, hoping that at any moment his son would make some cute noise and he would find him. Though, there would be so much luck.

“They must have taken him!”

Despite their lack of energy, the two ran to the main docking area. Either Beviin was contemplating coming back or had no experience flying because the barge transport engine was just starting. From the cockpit, Beviin had spied them, eyes searching the main console desperately. At a distance, Din could barely make out the baby toddling as fast as his stumpy legs could take him up the ramp just as it was closing.

“NO!” Din cried, though for who, he wasn't sure. “Cara! Start the Crest! I-”

Beviin must have found the auto pilot mechanism, as the rest of the ship flared to life, sending Din backwards yet again. His friend heaved him up by the forearm, running for the ship. No words were said; both moved in sync, sending the Razor Crest right after the children. His face was soaked, possibly sweat, tears or both. The complete misery of Beviin was beyond palpable, Din could feel it, making his heart ache, a pain he couldn't fix or depend upon to heal, incessant and impossible to control. Cara tried her best to reassure and comfort him with kind words, though not one he heeded. As the seconds without the children of his clan passed by, the agony grew ever worse. With his whole being feeling heavier than the galaxy, Din had to believe he could save them both, any alternative wasn't an option.


	20. Another Landing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The little stowaway proves to be more troublesome than usual, interrupting your unplanned escape from the Mandalorian and Cara.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so many exams and so little time for writing i'm so sorry! also i know a normal lightsaber can't break beskar, but can I interest you in the notion of a lightsaber being exceptionally special? Everything else is a mess but i'm sorry ilysm <33333

By some miracle you had managed to raise the ship into the air, engaging autopilot and jetting off into space. You had known them, yet you still insisted you didn't, the amount of how much care they had offered made you furious. It would have been easier to dispatch them while they were down. That an in the Beskar...Though his modulated voice was distorted, you could sense his neediness over the woman's powerful determination. 

Pacing the main deck, couldn't bring yourself to sit down in the pilot's chair or even release the tension in your shoulders. Some weak part of you wanted desperately to go back and beg the strangers for their help. Something foreign was consuming, maybe even killing you. The pirate had injected you with something that had come from wherever the wayfinder was leading you to. Perhaps there you would find some sort of cure that would ease the pain, even just for a bit. You refused to go about the rest of the ship, fearing anything else on the damn craft would incite further unpleasant memories. Just touching your lightsaber forced your mind to play over the slaughter of the space pirate. It wasn't as if the killing wasn't warranted; upon waking up your entire body was covered in blood, but not for long. The numerous gashes and puncture wounds fused themselves closed, new skin binding flesh together from new strength.

Many a time you had to resist the urge to tear the wayfinder form where it was bound, the aura about it was intense and alluring to all the senses, but surely discovering its origin would lead to a far greater power, capable of ending your misery and finally bringing about peace, even if just for yourself. Staring out at the vast galaxy, you pondered for a moment of what exact events had taken place, leading you to such devastating circumstances, but such thoughts were pushed away; dwelling on them too much would only induce madness of the undesirable sort. The good in the two back on Bespin was undeniable and honed over many years of pain. It was a wonder either of them hadn't broken down themselves, the air of loss around them had been more than apparent. 

About to attempt mediation, you were distracted by the notice of an incoming transmission. Annoyed, you hesitantly switched on the ship's com, a familiar voice coming through. “Kid!?” 

Glancing down at the radar, sure enough you were being followed, the Mandalorian's ship closing in. Sweat began beading at your temple, silently you cursed yourself for not knowing how to fly. Though not sure, the though of space dog fights filled you with dread and anxiety. Clumsily, you pressed and turned switches at random, hoping one of them would activate hyper speed. 

“Don't please!” Your hand moved to switch off the com, finally shutting up that Mandalorian and his caring voice. “My son is on that ship!”

Eyes widening in horror, used for a moment, searching over the ship in your mind. You had been the only one to board, you were sure of it. Though, upon finally sensing a tiny life form, your face twisted, torn between fear and fury. Unsure of what to do exactly, you switched your end on, “Leave me alone!”

You still had a significant lead on the Mandalorian, but you had a feeling he could catch up at any given moment. Swearing aloud, you turned to go pursue the stowaway, only to find the little one at your very feet. All anger melted away, though briefly. 

“What are you thinking?!” Scooping him up in your arms, you glared into his bright eyes, intimidation efforts useless against the baby. 

Before you had the chance to scold him, the ship's console lit up, informing you someone had entered the only docking bay on board. 

“This is your fault!” You growled at the little one. Sensing his understanding, he mocked you with a playful smile. “You're lucky you're so cute!...And a baby.”

Letting out an exhausted sigh you held him in your arms as you heard footsteps throughout the ship. Glancing around the room you considered crawling into the ventilation, but decided against it, instead running through the corridor to the left. The child rested his head against your chest, not worried in the slightest or bothered by the situation at hand. The longer he remained in your arms, an odd sense of calm eased your growing pains. With each step, sudden moments flashed in your mind. Warm water healing horrible wounds, carrying this child through a vast city, and grasping tightly to someone just as afraid as you were, tears pouring down your face. 

Stopping for a moment, you pulled back, looking the little green baby in his dark eyes. “What are you doing to me?” He failed to speak, but something akin to fondness was emanating from him.

“They're up ahead.” 

Cara glanced to the side, “How in hell do you know that?” 

He shrugged, “I don't know...I can just feel it.” Though it was hard to believe, it was true. Both his children were up ahead; despite the many corridors and numerous possibilities, he knew where they were. And rounding the corner, sure enough, there they were. Beviin holding the baby, seemingly giving him a lecture. 

“So I do know you!” They exclaimed. “I...I don't understand-” Their eyes wandered to the side, then back to the baby, freezing when they realized Din and Cara's presence. Beviin's eyes morphed from their usual red to that sickly gold. Against his own will, Din felt himself recoil in response. Immediately realizing his error, the Mandalorian stepped forward just as Beviin stepped back. For a while no one moved, the only sounds were everyone's labored breathing and the regular beeping sounds of the craft. Gingerly, Beviin set the baby down on the floor, much to the child's dismay. His tiny hands reaching up. 

“I...I'm sorry.” The whisper was so soft, Din was surprised he heard it at all. The words were still processing in his mind when Beviin turned and ran, Cara close in pursuit. 

“Beviin! Come back!”

Din gathered his son in his arms, tucking him in his carrier. “It's okay, kid. We're gonna get em' back. I promise.”

He was able to catch up to Cara quickly, doing his best not to jostle the child too much.

“They're heading for the lower levels, where the escape pods are!”

“Wait.” Din stopped, Cara following suit. “Then we head back to the Razor Crest. It'll be faster than any escape pod. Plus that kid can't fly for shit.”

You knew them. That was for certain. And in the instant you had seen The Mandalorian and Cara, there was a second, running back to them was considered, though followed by the absolute desperate need to strike them down. A senseless need for violence, blood lust, certainly not your own. As you had done millions of times that day, you checked to make sure your lightsaber was at your waist, without it, you were left with the force, a power you barely had control of. That power mingling with the new urgency for bloodshed was devastating, resulting in distressing headaches; you were still fighting.

By the time you reached the hangar with the escape pods, the heavy footsteps behind you had ceased entirely, perhaps they had gotten lost in the labyrinth of passageways. Though, both the Mandalorian and Cara were far from fools and the thought of them getting lost for a while seemed stretched. Not one to dwell on such things for too long you locked yourself in the first escape pod. Thank the force the controls were far simpler than the main craft, even still, the buttons were frustratingly complicated to navigate. 

“Oh Force...” Pressing every button seemed to nothing except set of a siren for a few seconds before finally jetting the pod off into space. With only stick-drive flying was actually somewhat manageable, and for a second, you believed the lie that you had been swift enough to escape again. Though the shadow of the Razor Crest cast over your little pod proved otherwise. “KARK!”

Frustrated you slammed your hands on the console board, willing all your energy into the ship, despite being non-living the engine roared louder, obeying your desire. 

“Fuel levels low.” The computer stated matter-of-factually.

“Of karking course...” Body growing exhausted with such exertion, you decided to use your last resort. With all the energy both new and old, you poured yourself into the damned craft, then jerked the lever for hyper drive forward, slumping weakly against the wall. Forgetting to strap yourself into the only seat, your body flew forward hitting the glass squarely. Annoyed, but not surprised, you peeled yourself back.

“Where in hell...” Looking out there was a large, lush planet directly before you, perhaps friendly and with all the overgrowth, a good spot to hide. Moving for the controls, your heart sank, finding nothing was functional. Drawing your lightsaber, you buried the fuchsia blade into the main console, swinging wildly, decimating the navigation computer and deflector shields. When the fit of blinding rage passed, you stared down at your vicious handiwork, regretting it almost immediately. Having already entered the atmosphere, the small pod started to plummet downwards ready to smash into the surface. 

“No way in kriffing hell am I dying in a starship!”

Heart hardened with conviction and spite rather than the will to live, you turned your blade to the main hatch, cutting right through it, a gale of wind pushing hard against your body. The grip of the gloves proved useful, helping you force yourself out of the ship, the gravity sending you spiraling away in an instant. Unable to control the fall, you were helpless, hair and limbs spinning out of control until finally you hit water. The pod followed soon after, crashing about a hundred yards away. Upon breaching the water, taking in many a strained breath, you could just make out the Razor Crest engage landing. After screaming into the water, you swam for the nearest land, wracking your mind of what to do next.


	21. Rest (Or Else)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now on a strange planet, you are unsure of your next move. Meanwhile, Cara makes sure Din has time to recover.

It was a complete miracle Din failed to have anything close to a heart attack. Watching the small pod accelerate far beyond it's capabilities and plummet towards the surface of Kashyyyk. Fully intending on jumping out after them, only to see Beviin cut out paneling from the pod and go flying off from the craft and flew into a vast lake below. He was still on edge until Din could see them rise to the surface and start to make their way ashore.

“I swear this kid is gonna kill me.” He groaned looking for a clear area to land safely. With the sudden impact on the surface of the water, that kid would be in no shape to go anywhere quickly.

“You need to reign that kid in.” Cara sighed, giving her friend a concerned look. She wanted so terribly to give him some sort of advice, though dealing with children had never been in her repertoire, it never had to be. Of course she hadn't known Din very long, but she could tell he needed both the baby and the kid. In the short while he'd known them, they had easily become a part of his life. Even through his modulator she could hear the heartbreak and pain in his voice when they had seen Beviin in so much agony. Though when they _did_ get them back, and they most certainly would, precautions would have to $be taken.

Mando let out a sigh. “Yeah, and how the hell am I supposed to do that?”

More than unsure, Cara grit her teeth in frustration. “I don't know, but they can't keep running off, we can't keep _letting_ them run off...Don't you have anything to keep track of your quarry?”

He was silent for a few moments, presumably understanding what his friend was suggesting. “Yes. I do. But if I use it...They have to know or else they won't trust us. I..I can't”

“It's okay.” Cara offered half a smile. “I get it.”

The clattering of a bowl against the floor of the ship, shifted the attention in the room to the baby, back in his little seat, he was quite focused on the spilled soup that had somehow gotten all over himself and the floor. His endearing little grunting eased Din's heart as he stood to clean the floor and then give his son a bath.

The heavy downpour was ever incessant, making climbing nearly impossible, with each movement, you steadily made your way up the side of a small mountain, climbing into a small cavern, a dent in the mountainside. Once inside, you took time to examine your body. Numerous scratches and burns covered portions of skin, the left pat of your lower leg showed signs of internal bleeding, though despite such injuries, there was no reason to panic. Although, to your disappointment, the minor wounds had failed to heal as they first did with the injection of the serum.

The sleek, pitch outfit you wore weighed heavy, saturated with cold water. Without your old data pad, your current whereabouts were unknown, fueling a draining anger within you. Not only had you managed to crash land on some force-forsaken planet, the ancient wayfinder was lost on the barge up in some section of the galaxy, the one lead you had towards ridding you of the absolute madness that awoken the desire for bloodlust. Even still there was the Mandalorian to worry about who had followed you, steadfast. No doubt, even now, he was in pursuit. In the back of your mind, you thought, if he dared to bring that precious baby out in this wilderness, you would have to fight him. Who would be so foolish as to bring a child out in these conditions.

No longer completely emaciated, though still scrawny enough to draw a concerning eye, the need for nourishment had become more commonplace, though how, you weren't sure. Perhaps if you had let the little one show you more...

Peering outside the cave, you could see the downpour had lessened, gentler now. Removing the shiny boots, a strange wave of relief came over, those boots had been rather irksome. With no sense of any intelligent presence, you deemed it safe to venture out in need of food and something to kill.

When the little one had been washed and his clothes cleaned, Din popped him back into the baby carrier and passed him to Cara.

“Are you sure about this?” He mumbled, trying to mask his own uncertainty.

Giving the baby a gentle pat on the head, Cara nodded. “You need to rest. Sleep for a while, okay?”

“I don't like-”

“Sorry, this isn't negotiable.” Tying her hair back, she gave him a stern look. “I'm not asking either.” Not giving him another chance to protest, Cara left, setting her own blaster to stun.

Kashyyyk was unusually beautiful despite the continuous rain, mixing with the warmth of the atmosphere, a fine mist rose, blanketing the lush ground. Even with her heavy boots, each step was virtually silent, the soft ground muffling any sound. Having landed near the north side of Kashyyyk, there would be no clear civilization for miles, leaving Beviin stranded in the wilderness. The Razor Crest, unbeknownst to them was their only chance next to wandering aimlessly. Part of Cara hoped the fall had left Din's child weakened, though seemingly cruel, it would make any confrontation vastly easier. The bruising from being flung across the room on Bespin was still fresh.

The tiniest grumble Cara had ever heard drew a smile. “You doin' alright?”

A little coo in reply.

“You just ate. Next time don't inhale your food.”

Then, an angry growl, followed by a murmur.

“What?” A small clawed hand gestured aside. Cara turned, finding nothing but the expanse of forest. “There's nothing there, kid, I promise.”

He protested in the only way he knew how, his usual gibberish, though to him he was probably making perfect sense. Admiring the baby's determination, Cara relented. “Alright, we can take a look, but there's probably nothing there, bud.”

After pulling the shading Beviin had stitched into the carrier over the child's head, they continued forward. Glancing to the side, Cara often spotted the tiny one poking out his tongue, catching stray water droplets as they fell. Absolutely adorable.

The smile that made its way across Cara's face faded fast. In the short while they had been walking, a clue had been found. No, it was the persistent nature of the child that made such possible. Lying at the foot of a mountainside cave was a small black boot, barely worn, shining with its new quality. While there were a few footprints, they ran soft, eventually disappearing entirely, Beviin either still far too underweight, or swift (Perhaps both.)to make an imprint.

“Good job, kid.” With three fingers, she gently gave him a pat on his little green head.

Your greedy eyes peered into the rushing river as it stayed the course into the vast lake miles ahead. Just under the crystalline surface, schools upon schools of fish followed the strong flow, unaware of their impending fate. While your wounds refused to heal, that was the end of your force limitations. In the palm of your hand, electricity trickled, weaving the small bolts between your fingers, you waited for the most fish to collect together. Then when the moment came, you thrust your hand below the surface, lightning crackling loudly, the bright light illuminating your giddy smile. Drawing your hand out, you counted many a fish as they floated to the surface, mouths open, seemingly in surprise.

Having sheared the outer layer of your tunic, you made precise cuts, tying sections together to make a bag. Your catch fit in the bag, leaving ample room for other findings. While your need for killing had been somewhat sated with the electrocution of your food, the need began to grow again. Ignoring the searing sensation withing your heart, you erased any sign of your presence at the river. Though in haste, and with your mind clouded, remained unaware of the two sets of eyes following at a distance.

With the sun making its descent, and the moon once again rising, you knew it was time to find shelter. Though it did compromise your location, following the river gave you at least a chance at finding some town of sorts. And perhaps that would lead to a port, there had to be some way to locate the wayfinder once more. And that had to lead to some cure for the developing mania. Even now your veins were clearly visibly underneath the skin, a glowing red bearing the sign of your compromise.

With the sun finally gone, you nestled yourself high up in a sturdy tree, climbing as high as possible, should anyone find you, there was no way they could reach you if they tried. Even if they did, it was almost certain their weight would break any bough they tread on, sending them plummeting back to the ground. Without fire, the fish had to be eaten raw, though silently you thanked the force the flesh was sweet. Exhausted and sore from the crash, you curled up into a ball, leaning against the trunk of the tree, letting the flow of the river lull you to sleep.

The second longest sleep of your life ended quite rudely, a very loud and jarring noise forcing you to wake.

“SHIT!”

Bolting upright, you took a moment to let you eyes adjust before peeking down to see many layers of branches had snapped, and laying angry and frustrated on the forest ground was Cara. And to your utter horror, the child was strapped to her side in a carrier.

“ **HEY!** ” Against your better judgement you screamed. “ **HOW COULD YOU?!** ”

Disoriented from the straight fall, most of the impact taken upon her back, Cara seemed completely shocked.

Given the state of your leg, your descent was far less than graceful, thoroughly enhanced by your anger. With a slight limp, you landed softly on the ground, trying your best to look fearsome despite your stature, age, and clear dishevelment. Cara's surprise shifted to something else, a strange affection mixed with annoyance, _that_ was what truly drew your fury. It was more than easy to raise her up snatch the carrier from her side and raise the woman far off the ground. With both arms, you held the baby tight against your body, ignoring his little cries, and paralyzing Cara, keeping her from making any sort of movement.

“How dare you! This is a _child_! And you brought him out here in this wilderness!?” With so great an anger, you continued your tirade, using every profanity in your vocabulary, your grip growing tighter and tighter until a soft hand digs into your arm. The touch is gentle and nature, yet sends you falling to the ground, and into the third longest sleep of your life.


	22. By Still Waters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May I offer you some comfort in this trying time?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Exams are over so now I have time to live and write! My tumblr inbox is always open @spaceshipbugattii <3
> 
> Also please let me know how I'm doing if you can, as well as advice on how to make it a bit less messy 💜

After thoroughly polishing every part of his armor, Din slipped on his helmet before walking outside the ship. For a brief moment, he forgot he was not alone, and that Cara hadn’t returned along with his children. Turning on his heel, Din was stopped by that familiar voice.

“Mando! Hey!” Looking disheveled, but nevertheless very much herself, his panic faded fast. On her side the baby was safely strapped and peeking his tiny head out; upon spotting Din those pointy ears flew up. And looking absolutely minuscule in Cara’s powerful arms lay Beviin, completely limp.

“What the hell happened?”

After hesitating for a second Cara sighed. “Open the hatch for me and I’ll tell you.”

He did what was asked, following close behind as she carefully laid Beviin down in the children’s room.

“Do you have any binders?” She asked.

“Yeah, but- “

“We’re gonna need them.”

Din let Cara take his binders and secure them on Beviin’s thin wrists, then place the baby in his pod. The whole time those huge, shining eyes were locked on the other child. She made sure to close the door and lock it before sliding to the floor.

“Where the hell did those kids come from?” Cara groaned, rubbing the back of her neck. “Beviin could’ve killed me if it wasn’t for that baby.”

“They tried to _kill_ you?”

“Well, sort of. The little guy seemed to know where they were with his magic I guess and after half an hour we found em’ by a river...”

Din noticed Cara purse her lips slightly. “And?”

“I tailed them for a while and then the kid just leapt into a whole tree to sleep…Then I had to make sure they were asleep before I…started to climb the…tree.”

Din took in a slow breath. “Did you set him down before you started?”

“I…Kind of forgot...”

His gloved hands gripped tightly at his knees.

“BUT! I landed on my other side, so he didn’t hit the ground!”

Din let his head fall back against the durasteel wall. “Oh, thank the stars…So I’m guessing you fell.”

“Yup. And that woke Beviin up who I guess still is missing some memories. Still, they seemed pissed off once they noticed I had the baby.” Very gingerly, Cara pulled back the collar of her clothing and armor to reveal reddening skin. “Beviin snatched the kid up, and then grabbed me by the neck and lifted me up twenty feet without moving.”

“Shit…”

“But that baby of yours…he just touched the kid and Beviin dropped.” She nodded in the children’s direction. “The trip back here wasn’t smooth so I’m guessing they’re gonna be out for a while.”

Din nodded, thankful everyone had made it back alive and with minimal injuries. Beviin could have killed Cara if the child hadn’t interfered, that was why the binders were needed. Now he would have to anticipate what to do when Beviin woke.

It seemed to take every muscle in your body to fully wake up. Just opening your eyelids proved to be a victory in of itself. Gravity was apparently intent on keeping you down, making moving nearly impossible, though out of muddled spite, you managed to turn to your side, meeting a very expectant gaze.

“Wh…Wh... Wh-What...” Thoughts were melded together, though, rather roughly. It was that baby from before. That little, tiny baby. You had picked him up, and away from that woman and then he grabbed your arm, and everything went dark. “What are you d-doing here?”

You moved your hands to rub the sleep from your eyes only to find both securely together in binders. “Kark...” Taking a breath, you concentrated, but the binders failed to budge. Attempt after attempt ended in failure, increasing exhaustion and anger. Little hands grabbed at your loose leggings, tugging incessantly. “Not now!”

Voice coming off plenty aggressive, the child was having none of it.

Shifting about, you came to realize that you once again, no longer possessed your lightsaber, and judging by the looks of your confinement, this was the Mandalorian’s cruiser. Captured, yet again. In order to move to the door, you had to peel the little one off your leg and use your bound arms to awkwardly place him back in his bed, much to his chagrin. “I can’t stay!” You hissed. “I-I can’t risk you all!”

Having tucked the baby in, you found the door locked, though it wasn’t much of a surprise. The wiring for the door was on your side, thank the force, though with no hands breaking out would be difficult. A tiny growl diverted your attention for a moment, though you elected to ignore it, a fatal mistake. Turning your head back to the closed wiring panel, the sheer force of being slammed against the opposite wall was shocking to all of your senses. Your body hung, suspended in the air of the small quarters, the baby concentrating on you.

“I-I’m! S-Sorry!” You coughed, feeling the walls of your throat closing tighter. Thrashing about accomplished nothing. “P-Please!”

You wracked your brain for what this infant could possibly want from you. A baby had no use for any of your material items, what a baby needed was food, water, sleep, attention, and…a family.

“I-I’m sorry!” The grip loosened ever slightly. “I-I promise!” Words were becoming harder to form, each burning the flesh of your throat. “I-I’ll stay! I’ll stay!” No sooner had the last sound left your chapped lips, the pressure vanished, letting you crash to the floor in a stunned silence. All you could do was look over to see the baby peering over the edge of his pod. The choking and lingering effects of slumber had momentarily warded off the symptoms of the unknown serum. Though a splitting headache and growing need reminded you quickly enough. Tears formed in the corners of your golden eyes.

It was a wonder no one had heard all the commotion, though it was a possibility the Mandalorian and his friends could have been elsewhere. The agony was blinding, coming and going in waves, always unpredictable. You didn’t hear the little pitter patter of feet against the floor, until he was almost touching you.

“N-No!” Voice raspy, you tried to roll away, but to no avail and that tiny green forehead pressed against your own. The sensation was deliverance, instantaneously the hot pain within your mind was gone, so too the blossoming blood lust. In their stead a treasure trove of images flooded your mind, some painful, some absolutely lovely. The baby pulled away, ears perking up.

After taking several deep breaths, you were able to sit up, though your veins were still glowing a brilliant red, everything else was gone, if only for a while. Those enormous eyes stared directly into your own, still anticipating.

“Th-Thank you.” Voice raspy, it seemed your throat would have to heal on its own. After offering a tired smile, you felt the cool metal of the binders slip off. Rather excitedly you reached down and picked the little one up, making sure to hold him securely in both arms. Many a time you had seen the Mandalorian or Cara grasp him with one arm, and rather loosely as well.

With one finger you gave his nose a small tap, “You’re a little b-bastard, you k-know that?” He smiled, showing those minuscule, yet somewhat sharp teeth. “And, o-oh force…” Giving him a good sniff, you found that the baby absolutely reeked. Of course, he had been changed, but it seemed a bath had been forgotten and was now well deserved.

Still unable to use the force, the child had no problem opening the door to your shared quarters on his own. The ship was shockingly quiet, and up in the cockpit, both Cara and the Mandalorian sat asleep in the pilot and co-pilot chairs. It was still dark out, though from over the horizon you could tell there would only be a few more hours before the sun would make its own glorious entrance. Keeping quiet, you snuck into the fresher only to find nothing you could use as an impromptu bath. Though with the river so close by, you decided to grab the cleanser and leave through the hatch. Once outside you took a deep breath.

“Th-Thanks for keeping q-quiet, little brother.”

Less than a mile off was where the stream was at its gentlest, barely any flow and crystal clear. Not caring in the slightest, you hopped right in, clothes and all, the water coming up to your thighs. The baby eyed the water suspiciously, grumbling quietly.

“C-Come on now!” He made no movement. “Don’t b-be like this! Y-You smell worse than a C-Coruscant sewer, now come!”

Realizing the infant wasn’t going to surrender you waded over and plucked him from his spot on the ground. He protested with baby growls, though made no attempts to choke you again. It was precise work, cleaning a baby. You had to make sure to avoid getting any cleanser where none should be, and make sure he didn’t eat it. Perhaps most difficult of all was keeping the little on still for a fraction of a second. The moment he was in the water, he became almost impossible to hold right, slipping from your grasp easily. The sun had already begun its ascent by the time you finished washing his ears.

“There!” You smiled, plopping him back on the grass. “N-Now just let me wash your l-little tunic.”

Making sure his ears didn’t catch on anything, you slipped the little brown garment on with ease, now both baby and his clothing were fresh. With your memories restored, so too came your curious bond.

“You w-want a s-story?”  
  


The baby cooed.

“Hm, o-okay. What k-kind?”

The sudden sensation of touch was shocking enough, jarring Din from his dreamless slumber.

“Mando! Hey! Wake up!”

“Wh-What?” It took a moment to gather his bearings, though once awake, he saw the source of Cara’s panic. The door to the children’s quarters was wide open, both the small cot and the pod were deserted. “Shit!”

“I already looked everywhere on the ship; the hatch was already open!”

Din patted himself down, finding Beviin’s lightsaber still hooked onto his belt. There was no way in hell they would have escaped without it. Making his way out, he contemplated using his rising phoenix, though his last attempt had been far from graceful.

“You take the west side and I’ll take the south!” He ordered, running in his own direction as fast as he could. He refused to believe that Beviin would ever even think about hurting the baby. There were those moments when they had him all gathered in their arms, talking quietly. But something had happened on that pirate cruiser, giving Din reason to doubt the kid.

“And then I-I used its real t-teeth to make that m-mask. I d-don’t know where it is n-now.”

Stopping in his tracks, Din felt himself shake with anticipation, that was Beviin’s voice. Inching forward, he wasn’t sure what to expect but certainly not the sight he was greeted with.

“I l-lost it after I-I ran into you and y-your Papa.” Sitting river side sat the two children. His son comfortably in Beviin’s lap as they picked apart a fresh fish, slowly handing him pieces. “Force! Y-You eat more t-than those b-beasts on H-Hoth!”

His son’s attention shifted, even at a distance recognizing his presence. The other child noticed his reaction and turned. Once seeing him, their ears drooped down, body going rigid, like a cornered animal. They made no movement to run but let the little one waddle over to him. Din scooped him up and started to calmly approach.

“It’s okay.” He started, offering a hand. Beviin glanced to the side momentarily, perhaps sizing up an escape. “Please, just- “

“I r-remember.” They rasped; voice strained.

“H-He helped me r-remember everything.” Tears welled up, spilling over only a moment after. Their head bent down, refusing to look up, only then did he notice the tag on their ear. Clipped right in on the top was a blue tag, commonly used to keep track of cattle and other creatures, though probably pirates’ captives as well. “I’m so s-so sorry!” Beviin began to cough and sob at the same time, a messy combination and they knew as much. Their hands moved to cover their scarred face.

The child looked on wistfully, giving a small cry causing Beviin to wail louder. Their body began to curl in, Beviin clenching every muscle tighter and tighter. Eventually Din managed to kneel down a few feet away and reached out with his free arm. Instantly, the older child flinched, recoiling as if he had tried to strike them. Steeling his nerves, he inched forward until his hand touched their head slightly. It took a few moments, though their breathing became even and their body loosened, still, they refused to look up.

“I’m s-so sorry.” Beviin whispered.

“It’s not your fault.”

“Y-Yes, it is, I- “

“It’s not your fault.” Din insisted. At this Beviin looked up in confusion, the long scar on their face red and strained from the expression. “Trust me. It’s not.”

Taking a shaky breath, Beviin let their body fall against Din’s; it was awkward having the baby in one arm and then the other child leaned against his side, and for a moment, the Mandalorian hadn’t a clue what to do. Though, perhaps it was instinct, he wrapped his arms around them both, staring off into the wilderness, letting his mind wander.


	23. Small Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally, a moment of normalcy. Though, you are a little too used to your former life without a guardian.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy! I'm on spring break so I'll have a bunch more time to write

The glowing sun made his Beskar warm, adding that to the complete serenity of the forest and the baby that had crawled into your lap, the conditions for a nap were practically perfect. Though you resisted the heavy temptation to fall asleep. Nightmares had become so frequent, the few times you had actually managed to close your eyes voluntarily, your subconscious was flooded with hosts of vile visions, too macabre to think back on. The tamest of the visions were still haunting; you could still feel yourself in spirit, standing in that colosseum, surrounded by masses of people, all staring intently at something looming behind you.

Defying the will of your body, you remained awake, your eyelids occasionally fluttering in order to stay open. In your lap was the child, mindlessly chewing on the loose fabric of your leggings, leaving damp marks all over. His little teeth were somewhat sharp, though you doubted they would grow as long and pointed as yours. However, the ears were another story; they were so large in proportion to his head. It made you wonder if his father found that helmet comfortable in any way. Ears never really stopped growing so surely the Mandalorian’s own must have been very cramped. Your own mask which had been painstakingly designed left ample room, but still, the tips of your ears were always irritated.

Your teeth bared as your yawned, jaw shaking. Ever since the child had incapacitated and then restored all memory, your body had grown extremely tired. Thank the Force it wasn’t as fatal as in the past. Still, he noticed.

“You should sleep.” He said softly.

Not wanting to move from your comfortable spot, you shook your head. “N-No. I d-don’t want to.”

The Mandalorian sighed, and you thought that would be the end of it.

“You and the baby were up all night, right?”

“Yeah.” You confessed, scratching your ear.

“Then you must be tired.” The Mandalorian reasoned. There was a slight falter in his voice, and you wondered if he was nervous.

“Then you should be tired.” He stated simply. “You’ve also been yawning for the past hour.”

“Well, y-yeah…But- “

The stars were momentarily in your favor. “Hey!! You found them!”

There was Cara, closing in at a steady jog. You shrunk back, hiding behind the Mandalorian’s bulk, peeking out from over his shoulder.

“Hey, kid!” Her voice was kind, though remembering how you had tossed her across the room on Bespin and then almost choked her to death in the deep forest. All she had wanted to do was help. How was she not angry?

“I’m s-sorry.” The words were sloppy as you forced them out of your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were clenching every muscle until she placed a hand on your head. Body immediately jerking, you dared to glance up, only to find a friendly smile looking down.

“It’s okay.” Cara ruffled your hair, the feeling unexpected. “Besides,” She sat down picking up the little one. “It would take a lot more than that to stop me.”

Relaxing you slumped again against the warm Beskar

“Er, hey kid?” Cara looked at you, slightly worried.

Your ears perked up in anticipation.

“When did you last…wash?”

Your ventures thus far had been numerous, and as far as you could remember the last time you had actually used something remotely close to a fresher was on Sorgan. That lady Omera had given you actual soap and warm water to bathe in, though how long ago had that actually been? Well, you had cleaned the baby and surely that counted for something.

“I-It rained only y-yesterday.” You answered wryly.

Both Cara and the Mandalorian exchanged glances, though with your direct connection to the force momentarily fractured, you could only guess what that man was thinking. Cara on the other hand had put a hand up to her face, though the edges of her mouth rose at either end.

*******

The child was so small, Din could easily hold him using only a few fingers. Beviin on the other hand was older, by how much was hard to tell, but enough where they could reason and slip away at any second. Still, they were a child though somewhat feral. He wouldn’t expect them to know all the common necessities of life, Din had no idea how long you had been alone. Hell, you had been clothed in old medical bandages when he first found you. 

No bones were poking out anymore, which was good, though Din made not to put together a special diet to put on lean muscle, promote bone growth and rebuild what had to be a compromised immune system. Eating whatever was in reach could make anyone sick, so the intake of scraps and fish would have to be stopped. And because Din had eyes and could see, there would also have to be a curfew. The dark crescents under Beviin’s eye were heavy, almost reminiscent of camouflage makeup. However, he had the protection of his armor, specifically his helmet and couldn’t take in Beviin’s scent, and judging by Cara’s face, he was lucky for it.

“I-It rained only y-yesterday.”

Din pursed his lips, unsure of how to respond. He was certain Beviin wasn’t the sort of child that would be easily coaxed into using the fresher.

“Kid…Rain doesn’t count.” Cara managed, stifling a laugh. “Kark, has it really been since Sorgan?”

Sheepishly, Beviin dipped her head and nodded, their cheeks turning red.

“Oh, my stars…Beviin.” Din sighed. “You have to wash, okay?”

The older child wrinkled their nose, “Do I have to?”

“Yes, please use the soap from the fresher, you can do it here and we’ll fix the ship up in the meantime.”

Their brow furrowed, maybe it was imagination, but with Beviin still leaning against him, he could feel the armor grow uncomfortably warm.

“Fine.” The older child huffed.

He had contemplated having Cara watch over them, but trust was never founded on such ways. Instead he ran the risk of escape, letting Beviin have some time alone. Din was going to prepare the Razor Crest for departure, though the little one seemed far too exhausted, to do any space travelling. So, after feeding him a bottle of blue milk, he made sure to tuck him in, leaving the door to his room open just a bit.

Beviin came back after half an hour, looking far better than they had. Though the lack of sleep was growing more apparent by the minute.

“Feel better?” He offered.

They shrugged, “I g-guess. Where’s the b-baby?”

“He’s asleep. Are you hungry?”

Nodding, Beviin gave half a smile. “Y-Yeah. I can go f-fish if you want.”

Din shook his head. “Nope, I have another idea.”

He stood, offering his hand which they took with little hesitation. Their hand was so very small in his own, Din had to make sure not to hold too tightly. Leading them outside, he moved to the other side of the ship.

“Nice of you guys to stop by.” Waiting leaned up against the side was Cara.

Laid out on the ground was a full meal for the three of them. Din had put together something recommended by information retrieved from the medcenter back on Coruscant when he had first seen how emaciated Beviin was. The stars willing, they would actually eat something. It was concerning that they waited for apparent orders, Din had to ask them to sit down and to his surprise Beviin seemed hesitant to let go of his hand.

“…You can eat, if you would like.” He offered.

Their ears shot up before they carefully picked up a small piece of fruit. As a clan they had been making progress, but still, Beviin smelled the food, took a few tentative bites before devouring it completely. A bit taken back, Din still slid their plate closer, and in absolutely no time, it was completely clean.

“Holy shit, that has to be some kind of record.” Cara laughed.

Beviin’s face flushed as they quickly wiped away the remnants of food from their face. “S-Sorry.”

Smiling, Cara clapped the kid on the back. “Hey, I think that’s impressive. I’ve never seen Mando over there eat, but I think you could beat his best time easily.”

Sighing, Din reached over, ruffling Beviin’s hair, comforted when they leaned into his gentle touch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it! If you have any advice, or suggestions, requests or just want to talk, my Tumblr inbox is open with anonymous too! so hmu at spaceshipbugattii
> 
> <3


	24. Starved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din has everyone take some time for much needed rest. With Cara's help, he hopes to make headway in your relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think! I love reading comments, i often re-read them lots tbh
> 
> also i'm so stoked they s2 finished filming, but now they have to edit oof

Din and Cara watched the older child gnaw absentmindedly on a bone from their meal a few hours earlier, they hung by their legs up on the rafters of the Razor Crest, swinging back and forth. He had been worried Beviin wouldn’t have touched the food offered, but instead was delighted when the child consumed everything before them with gusto.

“Poor kid probably hasn’t had a real meal in ages.” Cara sighed.

Din nodded, looking down at his datapad. “Now I gotta get them to sleep. I’ve never seen a kid with such deep circles under their eyes.”

“Not to mention the damn marks on their neck.”

He let out an exasperated sigh. “Yeah the baby took them as a threat earlier. At least that’s what Beviin said, I don’t think they’re telling me everything.”

A loud crunch sounded through the entire ship; Din was almost worried the baby would wake. Looking up, he could see that the older child had grown bored of gnawing and went straight to eating the entirety of the bone.

“Holy shit. That kid is crazy. I wonder if the baby eats bone.”

“Stars, I hope not- “

Beviin swung off the rafter beam and landed softly on the durasteel floor. “I k-know you guys are t-talking about me.”

“Oh?” Din challenged. “I would prefer you not use your magic to- “

“I’m not using ‘m-magic’.” Beviin slid to the floor. “You g-guys are just r-really loud.”

Cara shrugged. “All good things, I promise. And not to be rude, but do you just eat bone regularly?”

The kid raised their eyebrows. “R-Really? Uh well…when I can’t f-find anything I’ll j-just chew on one for a w-while. It t-tricks my stomach.”

Glancing to the side, he could see his friend wince. Perhaps it wasn’t the answer she was expecting. Beviin seemed to notice as much.

“B-But it also helps keep my t-teeth sharp. If I don’t c-chew on something they’ll g-get too l-long.”

They flashed their teeth and Din could finally see why they had chosen to make their mask in the shape of a Nexu; surely just grazing one of those teeth would be enough to draw blood. Beviin yawned a moment later, giving the Mandalorian an opening.

“Alright, I think it’s time you got some sleep.”

They shot up, straight to their feet. “No! I’m not t-tired!”

Cara shook her head. “You can’t kick ass without gettin’ shut eye, kiddo.”

While Din appreciated the sentiment from his friend, he didn’t want to put fighting into Beviin’s mind. “Still, you need to sleep.”

“But I-!”

He shook his head adamantly. “No exceptions. Please. You need to at least try.”

Beviin gave a low growl, puffing their cheeks before relenting and retreating to their room, closing the door behind them.

*****

You knew he was right and that very reason made you irrationally angry. Angrily, you wrapped the thick blanket around your body and pressed your face into the cot. But of course, that Mandalorian had to be so nice about the whole deal, there was really no reason to be angry with him.

While the atmosphere was relatively cool, the complete lack of light was disconcerting. Quietly rising, you slipped around the baby’s pod, and felt along the walls, hoping to find something. There was no way you were going to open the door, Cara and the Mandalorian were still out there and would see you were making no attempt to sleep. After a good minute your hand found a piece of durasteel jutting out, a latch. Very slowly, you hooked your finger around and pulled, revealing a small viewport on your side of the room. As always, a moon was out, beautiful on all her ways, giving off a calming light that graced your quarters just enough.

Leaning against the wall, you gazed out, watching light dance on the surface of the river not so far off. Luminescent fish swimming about, casting their own glow. As much as you wanted to, sleep wasn’t an option, not a voluntary one anyways. At some point fatigue would take over and there was no doubt you would lose consciousness. You simply wanted to avoid dreaming as much as possible. There was always that one dream of the colosseum filled with horrific cloaked figures, but also memories of the past, specifically your first time of the pirate’s barge. Your room had been so tight and small, hardly any room to move, often the air grew stale, almost suffocating.

In the few moments when Cyne wasn’t testing the limits of your healing and regenerative powers, he kept you in that room. No windows, just confined darkness where he let you lay in your own blood, your body stitching itself together.

Your breathing became labored and heavy, panic settling in. Not daring to open the door, you pleaded to your ancestors, begging for their help. Focusing on the small viewport, it flew open. Desperately, you squirmed through the opening, making yourself as small as possible to get through. With one strong push you popped out, falling flatly on the green earth. Looking back, you could see the baby hadn’t stirred and nothing else could be heard. With precision, you placed the viewport back in its place, making sure to seal it. The air outside was sweeter, not tainted with excessive pollution or any sort of occupation; this was the wild, something strange, open and wonderful.

A life out in the forest, wandering and discovering would be delightful, though was far out of reach. There was the baby, the Mandalorian, and whatever it was that ran through your veins. The little on had it at bay for now, though you could feel it trying to resurface. Perhaps if you went back to Jeddah, Asa might know something, but she had already made it clear should you come back to the temple, she would not hesitate to slaughter you. Even if you were to put up a fight, how the hell could you defeat a ghost?

Lying down on the ground, you did your best to find as many constellations as possible, Asa had taught you countless formations, all of them telling some ancient Jed’aii story. Asa had made them out to be so grand and legendary, it came as a surprise that hardly anyone outside of Jeddah made the connection to your abilities. Even the Mandalorian who seemed to know many things had insisted you had been using ‘magic’. There was absolutely nothing magical about having minimal control over the Force. Every time you tried to use it for something benign or useful, all hell seemed to break loose. The baby had more control with it; he wielded it with such power and ease, and he was still just a **_baby_**!

You couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy, after all you were the one with training, though it was minimal. There was no way the Mandalorian had taught him anything, he thought the both of you were a breed of sorcerer. Thinking of the Mandalorian, you remembered you had no idea where your lightsaber was. It had been at your side up until the baby attacked you, and upon waking, it had vanished. You were sure the Mandalorian had it on his belt, he liked to keep it there, which made it so much harder to try and take back. He seemed the light sleeper, so you thought it best to remove stealing it back from the picture. Refraining from using the Force as much as possible seemed to be in everyone’s best interest; just thinking of hurting any of them made your stomach churn. You would have run had it not been for your promise, or your love for the baby, or how you could hardly bear the idea of being separated from the Mandalorian and his son.

Thoughts of being whisked away flooded your mind, whether it be by pirates, imperials or another bounty hunter. The place they had made for you with them was the only one that had been safe, loving and warm. Even with your mother she had never been loving, tossing you aside when you attempted to hug her or show any sign of physical affection. Your thoughts dwelled for too long. With everyone on the Crest fast asleep, you refused to make a sound, silently sobbing, letting tears cascade down your face. The anguish left your ears ringing; you didn’t hear the soft footsteps behind you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lemme know what you think! my tumblr inbox/anonymous/messages is always open for requests, ideas, or whatever!


	25. Gentle Hands Against Your Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thinking you have run away, Din fears the worst. Though, a gentle moment only strengthens your growing bond

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm kind of really happy with this one! Let me know what you think!

Though Kashyyyk was under the jurisdiction of the New Republic, it was tranquil with hardly anyone else in the wilderness areas. Both his children seemed to enjoy it fully as well. Perhaps if one day, there was some sort of stability in life, trips could be made back here. Reflecting on the odd sense of peace even he found, Din started to take off his armor, starting with his helmet. Cara was fast asleep in the cockpit, Beviin and the tiny _ad’ika_ were tucked in their room, and there hadn’t been a noise in a few hours.

He had made a point to open as many viewports as possible to naturally air out the ship as much as possible. Though everything was closed now, Din could still taste the pure sweetness of the air. While his body was thoroughly drained, he made no attempt to actually fall sleep. Cara’s snoring traveling from along the corridor was somewhat comforting, and under certain circumstances, it could help him sleep. Though now he had a young clan, a responsibility of the highest order. Rest would have to-

**_POP!_ **

****

**_THUD!_ **

****

Din shot to his feet, waiting for a third noise, though none came, save Cara’s snoring. Heart pounding, a thousand scenarios flashed through his mind; in a hurry, he shoved his helmet on and the armor that covered the vital organs. Slipping out of his quarters and down the corridor, nothing seemed out of place. Opening the door to the children’s quarters, Din could feel his heart pounding, fear having his heart in a vice-like grip. The pod was full, the baby sound asleep and nibbling on one hand. Turning to the other side, he could feel his throat close. The small cot was empty, next to it, an exposed viewport that must have been removed. They must have run off. Had he done something wrong? Did Beviin actually despise him? Or perhaps they feared him. The entirety of his Beskar armor, and the fact he couldn’t take it off in front of others could be off-putting, but maybe the older child had found it fearsome?

Not wanting to wake his friend, Din opened the main hatch, ready to leave in search of his child. With his rifle shouldered, he pondered what to say should he find them, though thoughts were almost impossible to form. He had only made a few yards before almost stumbling over completely. Din froze mid stride, a sudden flurry of emotions making the poor man very lightheaded. Wrapped in a small ball next to the viewport was Beviin, both hands clasped over their mouth as tears poured down. He hadn’t been making much noise, and even if he had it wasn’t enough to alert the ordinary person. Though Beviin being far from ordinary jerked to the side to see him and let out a strangled cry before falling back.

“I-I just needed f-fresh air!” Beviin hastily dusted themself off first, wiping tears away second which proceeded to smear dirt all over their face. They took several deep breaths in very quick succession, probably to stop the crying, though it didn’t seem to do much. This caused the child to cough and hack almost uncontrollably, so much so that Din moved to pat the kid on the back. The moment his hand touched them, Beviin’s whole body seemed to flinch, spasming awkwardly. Despite that, he gently patted them, easing their cough until it vanished completely.

“Better?” Din asked.

Beviin nodded, taking long, shaky breaths. “Y-Yes…Thank y-you.”

Neither said anything for a while, which frustrated Din. He was dying for them to say at least a word, so he would have something to work off of. Beviin wasn’t a baby and they could at least speak, though it was often broken and spread out. He knew nothing of magic, and he had only recently become an actual father; all he wanted to do was help, though it seemed every bit the uphill battle. Out of the corner of his eye, he spied Beviin staring at him wide eyed and nearly shaking. Din hadn’t even realized he had become tense, squaring his shoulders and clenching his fists.

“I-I’ll go back to bed.” They said hurriedly, jumping to their feet.

“ **Wait!”** His voice had been louder than originally intended. “Wait…”

Beviin turned, their head down, and those red eyes peeking up at him.

“I’m sorry; I think I startled you,” He started.

“No! I-It’s fine. I-I s-should be in b-bed.”

Tapping his fingers against his leg, Din huffed. “Were you alright? Before I came out here, I mean.”

“W-Well, I just…You…Y-You k-know?”

Sighing, Din sat on the grass, reminding his body it was okay to relax and unclench his muscles. “I’m no wizard, but I think you were, uh, crying.”

At that, Beviin let out a groan, the streaks on their face clear under the starlight. “Was it **_that_** obvious?!”

“I mean, yeah?”

“KARK!”

“Hey!” Din snapped, much to his surprise and Beviin’s. “No swearing.”

They seemed too baffled to respond, taken aback at the fact he actually said something. Of course, Beviin had been swearing regularly, though the curses rolled off their tongue far too easily for his liking.

“Besides the point…Beviin, I have this helmet on but I’m not blind.”

The child’s ears drooped low, “I-I never t-thought you were d-dumb.”

“…My point is you were crying and almost choked trying to stop.”

Beviin’s fingers fiddled with the tag punched in their ear. “I know…I just didn’t w-want to bother a-anyone.”

“You’re my child. I care if you’re not well.”

Expression blanking, their mouth was agape, “I…t-thank you...” Tears started to overflow, reddening their already puffy eyelids.

Reaching out, Din tugged his child’s hand lightly, leading them next to himself. Pulling a small scrap of cloth from one of his pockets, hand shaking as he gingerly dabbed away trails of wet tears, dirt and dust. Din could feel the rise, fall and crevasses of each scar. “Tell me if it hurts, okay?”

“Its…F-Fine.” Once he finished Beviin fell against him, “Thank you…Mando?”

“Hm?” Din's mind wandered for a moment. He would have to think of something for both children to call him sooner rather than later.

“I’m tired.”

“I know.” Din pulled them closer. “You need to sleep; did you at least try?”

“I did, h-honestly I did.” Frustrated, they pulled at their tag. “I can’t t-though.”

Looking at the marker clipped on the lower lobe of their ear, Din wondered if it had tracking capabilities. “Does that hurt? The tag?”

Beviin shrugged. “Not really. This o-one’s new, I just can’t use m-my, uh, ‘magic’ to get it off and my h-hands hurt every time I try. And, no. It c-can’t track me. Anymore a-at least. The pirate was the only one who c-could.”

Taking the small tag between two fingers, Din applied as much pressure as possible, breaking the device into tiny pieces. Let behind however, was a half-healed hole. “Better?”

“Hell- I mean, y-yeah!”

Smiling, he tousled their disheveled head of hair. “Now, Beviin, please. I need you to try to sleep.”

“But I can’t!”

“At least tell me why!”

“Because of the s-ship! And the pirate! And whatever t-the k-kark is wrong w-with me! I have night-nightmares…”

Din paused a moment, holding them a bit tighter. “Well, if you’re not gonna sleep, I won’t either.”

“But-!”

“And we can’t wake up the others, so…Would you like to hear…a story?”

Beviin nodded eagerly, ready to listen. He had only started to tell the baby some of the tales he was told as a young foundling, mostly tame ones. Though perhaps he could now speak of the more daring legends of the Mandalorians.

****

Even through the goddamn modulator, which made the Mandalorian sound like a repurposed battle droid from the old days, his voice was simply calming. There wasn’t a hint of malice or ill intent, nothing too harsh or raucous, his voice was spun gold.

Your eyes became quite heavy by the second, making blinking rather arduous. As much as you wanted to listen to the story, to just hear his voice for another moment, it slowly faded along with the rest of the world. The glow of the pale moonlight, the warmth of the Mandalorian’s Beskar swallowed by the darkness of slumber. For a long while there was nothing, simply the sweet bliss of unconsciousness. But as the Force would have, it wouldn’t last for much longer.

“Young one? I’m truly sorry, but I must wake you.” A deep brogue appeared from seemingly nowhere, strong, yet distantly familiar. “Please wake, I don’t know how long you’ll be here for.”

Panic stirred your mind, jarring you from sleep, though sitting up, all was a bright white. No Mandalorian, no vast greenery, no ship.

“Kark!” You cried.

“Oh, Force. If he knew you were talking like that, he’d…Well actually I don’t think he’d be surprised.”

Jerking your head to the side, you noticed the only other presence in the world: a bright green light, unclear and perhaps unstable in this life.

“W-Where am I? What did y-you do with them!?”

The voice sighed. “So much panic at such a young age. Young one, this is your dream, so if anyone has done anything, it has been you.”

A dream. Another force driven dream, kark it all. Letting your head fall back on the ground you let yourself relax some, just thankful it wasn’t a nightmare.

“I don’t suppose you are going to say hello?” The voice asked bemusedly.

“W-Why?” You scoffed. “I don’t even know you. You’re in my h-head, or the Force? I don’t know. The longer I’m in the Force, the less I know.”

“I know not as well, young one, but now that I am here, I have a few guesses as to why. Here. Look at me.”

Lazily, turning to the other side, you stared at the green light, wondering how it could see in the first place.

“Hm, you don’t look a thing like him.”

“Like who? Ugh, never mind, I don’t really care a-actually.” The light flickered, for a few seconds before becoming somewhat stable again. “Are you a ghost? You f-feel like a ghost.”

“A ghost?” The voice laughed, and you found yourself smiling. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

This presence reminded you almost of Asa. Perhaps this being was a former Jedi, or maybe an apprentice. “Are you like m-me?”

“…I suppose so.” Mused the voice. “In some ways yes, and some ways no.”

“Wow. Profound.” You rolled your eyes. A vague answer; your conviction only strengthened. “Well, i-if you wouldn’t m-mind, I am a-actually quite tired. And Force dreams always l-leave me waking j-just as exhausted.”

“Ah, I see. Then I shall let you slumber.” The voice hummed. “But I should tell you I can feel this won’t be the last time we are made to meet like this.”

“O-Oh?” You growled low. “Well c-can it l-least be when I’m not about to die from not s-sleeping?”

Another hearty laugh sounded clear throughout the atmosphere. “I suppose we will both have to see. Be strong…And sleep well. I shall keep your terrors at bay if just for a night.”

This world too began to fade, pitch black eclipsing the light. The being did keep true to its word, and there was not a nightmare to be had for the rest of your slumber.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please let me know what you think if you have any sort of comment or criticism. And if you have requests or thoughts or want a drabble my tumblr inbox is always open also on anon!


	26. Problem Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peace never lasts very long, especially in a newly formed family. Din finds himself trying to navigate fatherhood.

When your eyes next opened, the sun had yet to rise again; even the stars were still sparkling, flaunting their brilliance. With no time teller, you weren’t sure how close it was until dawn exactly, though judging by the moon, it wasn’t far. In all honesty you would have preferred being unconscious, that way you could handle your current predicament. It’s not that you were uncomfortable or felt unsafe exactly, it was just that you had never had any physical contact with anyone or anything for longer than a moment. Even when it was a few seconds longer it was always brutal and usually ended in blood or bruises. At some point you had fallen asleep, and the Mandalorian had decided to hold you closer, having been asleep, you hadn’t minded, but now, it was almost too much for you to handle. One part of your brain anticipated a strike, though the rational part knew that would never come. The other wanted to stay there, knowing nothing could hurt you while he was there.

His grip was taught, bringing your frame flush against him, leaving only one arm free. You could feel the absence of anxiety in his mind, letting you know he was fast asleep. Not wanting to move, fearing even breathing to heavily would stir him. Twisting your Jedi braid with one hand, you thought back on your dream and the strange being that had the kriffing audacity to appear in it. Most of what the voice had said made little to no sense, but it still was intriguing. The oaky voice had been familiar, though logically you had never heard it before in your life before last night. It had compared you to some unknown ‘him’, and even made a kriffing comment about your stellar word choices. If that ghost was benign and not up to any tricks, you wondered who you failed to resemble. Thinking back on your mother, you shared traits such as your sharp teeth, ears and eyes, though that was about it. Your mind began to ache, throbbing dully, a sign the effects of the serum were surely returning. Kark. Last time, the baby had somehow managed to make the pain subside, albeit after choking you half to death. Still, he was just past infanthood, and overextending his abilities could prove to be harmful. Wrinkling your nose, you remembered the first time you had used the force to make a fire for warmth, you set an entire warehouse on fire, causing you to pass out from exhaustion. It was a wonder you hadn’t been burned. The child seemed more competent than you when it came to harnessing the force and even more insistent on using it regardless of whether the situation warranted any use of power. You would have to ask him for help, and more importantly if he could handle it.

Noticing the Mandalorian’s breathing seemed only slightly ragged, you reached out, looking for the source of potential discomfort. Focusing you could feel your connection to the Force, almost the same as it had once been, only a little darker. Like you had plunged your hand into murky waters. 

He wasn’t a hard being to read, in fact it was surprising how open his mind actually was. Though, not wanting to probe and sensing somethings that were particularly sensitive, you moved on, finding the source of the problem. Between the plates of the Beskar near the back of his thigh was a gash, not too deep, but still rather ghastly. Feeling it was in the process of healing, you wondered how long he had gone without tending to it. Then again, the Mandalorian had been giving chase to you, not giving him much time to focus on himself.

An overwhelming sensation of guilt began to take over, making your ears ring loud. Giving a short sigh, you shifted your body slightly, loosening his grip. Now you had slight access to the injury. The last time you had done so resulted in transferring the wound to you, which was less than desirable, but at this point you would have done anything for him. A simple flesh wound was nothing. Hovering a hand over the small gap between his armor, you changed your focus, calming your mind as much as possible. Against your will, you let out a small gasp as you could feel the blazing heat of the gash starting to form on your leg.

“…Beviin?” The Mandalorian’s voice was thick with sleep. “What…What are you doing?”

“H-Hold s-still.” You demanded, trying to keep your voice as still as possible. No matter how many times you were beaten or battered, the sensation of pain was never bearable.

“What? Beviin-?”

“Stay s-still!”

Finished. With the gash completely gone, you relaxed, but only for a moment.

“Bevin, what the hell was that?” His voice was more concerned than angry, for which you were glad, but it still didn’t fail to alarm you.

“You w-were injured. T-The back of your l-leg.”

He let his grip on you go, turning his leg to the side, using his pointer finger to press gently. Evidently feeling no pain, he pressed again to make sure. “It’s gone?”

Nodding, pride made your chest puff out. “Yep!” Though the welling of blood threatening to spill down your leg kept you humble.

“And you healed it, huh?” You could hear the smile in his voice. Determined to keep it there, you dashed inside the ship, half to wake the baby, the other to find something to stop the blood.

“I-I’ll go see i-if the baby is awake yet!”

Smiling, Din watched them run inside the ship, a little extra bounce in the kid’s step. He himself was feeling far more rejuvenated than he had in a long while. The previous night had been the most peaceful in a while, save the night when the baby couldn’t sleep, and he had to hold and rock him to sleep. After testing how much pressure he could put on his leg, Din headed back into the ship, a bit curious as to why Beviin had been in such a hurry. It was probably just the sleep they had finally managed to get, a success Din attributed to his stories of Mandalore. Beviin has been absolutely enthralled, hanging onto every word that passed his lips. He had initially thought the stories would have lost some of their wonder thanks to his modulator, though the older child’s eyes had never been brighter. Just as he was starting his third tale of peril and victory, their eyes started to close, leaving him alone. There was a strange comfort that Beviin gave him as well as a bizarre feeling of honor. The number of days hadn’t been many, and yet now they trusted enough to let him hold them while they slept. He did notice some rather sad habits of theirs, the way they would repeatedly flinch in their slumber, or clench their whole body.

What was most worrisome was that they were able to heal his wound in absolutely no time while their body was still very fragile and in dire need of healing overall. Had Beviin noticed the injury beforehand and waited until he fell asleep to heal him? It was unnerving but still unlikely, they had fallen asleep before he did. In all honesty, Din had forgotten about the injury to his leg. It happened during the chase, when Beviin had thrown he and Cara across the hall on Bespin. Debris of some kind had sliced into an opening, it hadn’t been fatal by any means, just painful. Of course, with everything that had been going on it had been easy to forget.

“Morning, metalhead!” Cara grinned as Din boarded. “Did you actually get sleep last night?”

“Uh, yeah I did.”

Cara clapped him hard on the back, causing him to lurch forward. “Looks like the kid did too! I’m glad, you both really needed it.”

“Thanks, really.” Din moved to the cockpit, taking his seat and starting to flip an absurd number of switches. “Make sure the kids are doing alright, tell them we’ll be stopping by the closest village to get some supplies and food.”

“On it!”

Crossing the corridor to the children’s quarters, upon opening the door, Cara found Beviin using one foot to keep the baby at bay and rolled down the other pant leg.

“S-Stop it! I said no!” They growled, placing back in his pod. “No m-means no, little baby!”

“Whoa, what’d the little guy do?”

Beviin jumped slightly, startled by Cara’s sudden presence. “N-Nothing…”

“Well, Mando wanted me to let you both know we’re making a stop at a nearby village, we’re probably gonna pick up some food, okay?’

They nodded, falling back on their cot, somehow already looking exhausted and slightly pale.

The airtime was short, giving you no time to recover from healing the Mandalorian. Thank the sweet Force he had still been groggy, giving you the opportunity to run back to your shared room and bind your new wound tightly with cut fabric from your already mangled tunic. Of course, as soon as you were back the baby woke up, sensing your injury and tried to heal it. He whined and complained the whole time you tried to stop the bleeding, so much so that you half considered locking him outside the room.

“I know you know how to use your powers but you’re still a baby!” You sighed, strapping him into his carrier.

Even so, your night’s slumber provided you with enough strength and energy, leaving you ready to go into the village. It had been a while since you had been about without people actively trying to hunt you for money.

“Oh, you both look ready!” Cara greeted you with a warm smile, “Oof, looks like you could use some new clothes, kid. I think I can-.”

“Cara.” The Mandalorian coughed forcefully, motioning for her to come closer.

You did trust them, almost without question, though with both of them standing only a few feet away and whispering was too much. The baby wriggled uncomfortably in his carrier, feeding off your emotions.

“Um, kid?” Mando started, leaning against the frame of the hatch. “I think it’s best if you stay here for now.”

“Wh-What?”

He groaned, not liking his word any more than you were. “We won’t be long, trust me. Just a few minutes and we’ll be right back.”

It was because of the kriffing effects of the serum. You hadn’t expected him to forget, but even so it wasn’t as if you were trying to kill him now. In fact, you were feeling the symptoms rising and were still fine! There was almost no problem at all, and he was afraid you were going to go berserk in public! This was a clear sign of distrust and he was babying you. Absolutely furious, your ears rung so loud it was deafening. Quickly, you unstrapped the harness from your body, handed it to Cara and stormed off into your room, shutting the door behind you despite the Mandalorian’s protests.

“Beviin!” He called.

“Leave em’ be, let them cool down.” Cara suggested.

Eventually you heard the sound of the hatch opening and closing, leaving you alone of the Razor Crest. For a few moments you balled up your blanket and screamed into it until your throat was dry and enflamed. Your fury hardly quelled, you kicked the durasteel wall with all your strength, regretting it immediately. The gash on the back side of your leg opened yet again, breaking the fresh tissue. Howling in pain you undid the makeshift bandage you had secured around it to have a look. Wide and seeping, the cut had fresh blood trickling down your leg and onto the floor.

“Kark…” You croaked out; the sudden wave of pain managed to calm your tantrum.

Limping out of your room, you glanced around, looking for some sort of utility closet. The Razor Crest was a sturdy ship, though seemed in constant need of repair, surely, he kept some tools around here somewhere. After poking through a few wire boxes and what must have been a trash compartment, you finally found it. In the very back was a compartment full of an assortment of tools, pushing numerous ones aside you found what you had come for. Hobbling back to your cot, you rolled your loose leggings up to your knee, and popped the cap off the small bottle of sealant. The process was simple and stopped the bleeding in no time, even if it was overall detrimental for the body. Having been on your own for years selling kyber, you spent the money on what was critical: foodstuffs, travel and paying off the occasional criminal trying to rob or maim you. Bandages and bacta were far too expensive and to you, a luxury. Sealant was easy enough to steal from a port and it was better than sewing the injury back up.

Propping your leg up on the wall, you carefully started to spread the sealant over the wound, forgetting several crucial steps beforehand such as cleaning the wound. It was likely the lack of food in your stomach and the slight blood loss that led to the lack of discernment and common sense. But before you could finish, the hatch opened, the baby, the Mandalorian and Cara all entering. There was no universe where either adult would approve of this…method of first aid. You squeezed the bottle, hoping the process would move faster, but to no avail.

“Beviin, I’m-…Beviin.” His voice turned suddenly tense, icy even. “What the **_hell_** are you doing?”

Having no choice, you looked up into the visor of his helmet, wondering what expression he had donned. Surely one fitting his rigid stance. The Mandalorian’s head tilted down, taking in the sight of your blood on the floor, trailing around the room and into the hallway, next seeing the slice in your leg, half covered in sealant used to mend small pieces of durasteel.

**_“I asked what the hell you think you’re doing.”_ **


	27. Growing Anxieties and Moments of Peace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After reminiscing on past horrors, Din helps you patch yourself up. And after a painful moment, Cara presents a delightful gift.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASDFGHJKL I'm so bored. my classes are online now and I can't visit friends, ugh. But send in requests or anything! I'm on tumblr under spaceshipbugattii and ghoullflower

“Keep counting.” The droid’s flat voice demanded.

“I…I don’t k…know any higher…” You croaked, your throat dry and irritated. In the back of your small mind, it was embarrassing to not know how to count any higher than you did, but the mind could not dwell on such thoughts for long and went back to figuring out how to survive. Cyne had grown bored of experimenting on your body and had gone to bed, or so you thought. He had secured a heavy piece of metal around your head, keeping everything from sight, making knowing the time of day nearly impossible. The bastard pirate ordered one of his Magnaguards to continue his operations and make note of all healing processes, specifically purposeful injuries that were taking longer to heal.

That was what the sick fiend was so enamored with. Initially the last blow was intended to kill you, a direct blow to the stomach should have been the end of it for any mortal being, losing the contents of oneself, a certain death sentence. However, Cyne left you for his guards to clean up and dispose of, though in a matter of minutes, your body seemed to put itself back together, hardly leaving a scar. From then on it was an endless cycle of testing to see how far your limits would go. Not one to have a task without a little fun, the barbarian made sure your mind was intact, not well, but at least not entirely decimated. Upon finding you could count no higher than the number of ships in the port where he stole you from, Cyne had you count forward, backward and in any order he fancied. What fun was experimenting when the test subject was no longer feeling?

Slumped over, your chin nearly touching your knees, you could feel a large, metal hand tug on your braid, forcing your head back. Blood pouring from your broken nose splashed about; you could feel the warm droplets hit your thighs.

“Count.” The droid ordered.

“One…Two…Three…” Hot liquid began pooling in the back of your throat, making speaking arduous and horrendously painful. Tears mixed with mucus trickled down the curve of your face, provoking numerous cuts and gouges in your skin.

“Lack of super, enhanced natural healing suggests the deterioration of the living subject.” The Magnaguard punched in notes on a datapad, reciting each observation. “The subject being a child past infancy, emerging into early childhood, is perhaps the cause of deteriorated abilities. Should the next steps fail, the subject shall be disposed of.” 

Hearing the guard place the datapad down and pick up something else, you braced yourself for the next wave of misery. However, were bewildered when a strange, sticky substance began to cover one wound after another. The process seemed to take a millennium, the material suddenly growing hard and dense after attaching to tissue. Only a day must have passed, or perhaps a few hours. Nevertheless, the final test must have not reached Cyne’s expectations; along with the usual trash load, the bastard pirate disposed of you on Tatooine, thinking death had already staked its claim.

*****

The older child’s eyes were staring blankly ahead, glazed over, with tears welling, but not falling. Din was careful with his next few moves, having Cara fetch a first aid kit while he removed the sealant from the gash in Beviin’s leg. It was precise work; he had his child sit on their cot while he propped their leg on his knee. Using a hopefully sterile swab he gingerly removed the half-dried sealant piece by piece. Stealing a glace, he noticed Beviin mouthing something, their lips barely moving, but moving for sure.

“Am I hurting you?” Din asked softly.

“It’s fine.” They blinked a few times, their trance finally broken.

Once all the sealant was removed, Beviin gave him a questioning look. “What n-now?”

Cara who had returned with the kit, emptied its contents, finding only basic items. “Bad news. There’s no bacta.”

Din winced slightly, “You sure?”

She nodded, “Yeah, but there’s plenty of medical thread and a needle.”

The child’s muscles tensed under the Mandalorian’s touch, jaw clenching tightly. “Anything else?”

“Alright. Hey, look at me please.” Taking one hand, Din gently guided Beviin’s gaze to meet his own, heart dropping upon seeing the angry gold tone returning to their eyes. “I’ll be gentle okay? I promise.”

Beviin nodded fervently, taking a few deep breaths. Ever thankful they made no clear protests, Din prepared for the meticulous work. It went unspoken, but both seemed unwilling to bring up the baby. The Mandalorian had seen the young one collapse too many times after using his magic, and he assumed Beviin had seen as much. Once Cara carried the baby off to give him a bottle, he set to cleaning the wound.

“How did this happen?” Din kept his breathing steady, thankful for the advantage his helmet gave him. He often worried his own anxieties and fears were easily picked up by his children, though if he kept his tone soft and form relaxed, Beviin couldn’t pick up on anything else. His child fiddled with their thin braid, twisting it between their deft fingers, keeping their eyes fixed on the ground.

“Do you know and not want to tell me?” He inquired, slipping the thread through the eye of the needle. Slowly, Beviin nodded, pulling on their hair tighter. “Why don’t you want to tell me?” He hadn’t expected an answer.

“Because…It might scare you.” They confessed; their voice slightly broken.

Din sighed, “Whatever it is, I can take it. If you don’t tell me, I can’t help, my child.”

“I know.” Noticing he was ready to start, Beviin shifted their gaze to the ceiling as Din slipped off his gloves.

“So, please tell me.”

The needle passed through the skin and flesh with ease, the Mandalorian trying to be firm without causing too much pain. Responding reflexively, Beviin growled, their sharp nails digging into their upper thigh. “H-Haven’t you done this before?!”

“…No.” Din paused. “Usually I cauterize my injuries.”

Beviin shook their head as they let out another growl. When he had finished the nearly twenty stitches, they let out a sigh of relief, falling back on their cot, eyes fluttering slightly.

“You lost a bit of blood. You’ll be fine, but you need to eat, okay?” He stated, slipping his gloves back on.

They nodded, sitting up, “What d-did you get at the market?”

“A few things, but don’t think I’ve forgotten. How did this happen?”

For a moment they said nothing, tracing the line of stitches on the back of their thigh. “I healed you.” Pursing their lips, Beviin’s eyes trained on his visor. “The b-baby can heal people. So, can I. But when I do, it transfers the wound to me.”

Din knelt down, tenderly holding onto Beviin’s small shoulders. “Why?”

“Why what?” Beviin asked earnestly. “Y-You were hurt, and I wanted to heal you.”

“And you knew what it would do to you?”

“Yeah.” They observed him with curious eyes, tilting their head to one side, calm under his grasp. “Are you okay?”

In fact, he was, and wasn’t all at the same time. Overcome with emotions, all Din could do was keep still and try to maintain his composure. His ears rang loudly, causing every muscle in his body to tighten. Poor Din could see Beviin’s mouth moving but could hear nothing.

“Master?” Their red eyes ever concerned looked him over for any sign of injury. Upon finding none, they closed their eyes, softly placing their forehead against his helmet.

*****

The broth made from TaunTaun stock was palatable to put it kindly. You and the baby had watched intently as the Mandalorian prepared the meal while Cara set the ship to auto pilot with the destination being Coruscant. In the back of your mind, you wondered why, but for the moment, all you wanted was to eat.

The baby spit up a bit of his, pushing his cup away from where the both of you sat on the floor.

“Little b-brother, you gotta eat. See?” Taking a long sip, you forced a smile. “Good!”

He gave a loud whine, waddling over to sit in your lap.

“…Fine. If I g-get a moment when we land, I’ll look f-for cookies, but no promises!”

Cooing in reply, you could feel he was thankful. Setting your own bowl aside, you scratched the one place on his head those tiny hands could never reach. What his hands could reach was your braid, and once his meaty little toddler hand had snagged the hair, it refused to let go. Shrugging, you accepted your fate, letting him tug on it weakly.

“My old master braided it. She was going to add my first b-bead in a few weeks.”

*****

With Din ordered to take some early rest, Cara decided to give Beviin her own gift. Carrying the bundled gift, she entered the children’s room, finding the baby floating and his sibling focused on keeping him in the air. After coughing politely, Beviin lost their steady focus, but managed to catch the little one as he fell lightly from up high.

“H-Hi.” They said sheepishly.

Cara smiled, “You’re fine. But! I wanted to give you something!” She plopped the bundle on the ground, motioning for both children to join her on the floor, their legs crossed. “I’m sure you’re not loving staying in those clothes, so I thought I’d get you some new ones!”

Upon opening the thin burlap, she watched the older child’s eyes widen.

“Kriffing h-hell!” They lurched forward, letting their hands run over the soft fabric, soon pulling back, their face flushed. “S-Sorry.” With reverence they bowed their head. “Thank y-you very much.”

“I’m glad you like it!” Grinning, Cara knew she chose well. Taking the baby in her arms and turning away, she gave Beviin privacy to change.

“It’s all a bit big but I like it! All done!”

Turning around, she had never seen the child so giddy. Cara hadn’t anticipated the tunic she had purchased being so kriffing long, as it almost passed their shorts, but perhaps it didn’t matter. “Hm, here, let me help a bit, and there’s a few pieces you missed, kid.”

Beviin looked down at the remaining items, rather confused. “But i-isn’t that armor?”

Cara nodded. “Always keep some on, kid. You never know, it might just save your life.”

They let her secure a belt around their waist, limiting the flow of extra fabric, next tightening soft gauntlets she had to alter herself to their arms. The finishing touch being the spaulder Cara had ‘borrowed’ from a vendor after the seller refused to budge on his price. The Wookie worked leather was thick and strong, a perfect start for introducing the kid to armor.

“There. Now you look like a proper little rebel!”

Beviin let out a small laugh, “Look, Little Brother!” The tiny one clapped his hands together, relishing in his sibling’s delight.

Cara was taken aback when the older child ran over, wrapping their arms around her. Surprisingly, their hold was extremely tight. “Thank y-you!”

Yes, the kid was surely going to be alright.


	28. The Nigh Visitor and Their Message

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After receiving some rather alarming news you are more than ready to distract yourself on the return to Coruscant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> taking requests at any time since classes are online now! My tumblr is the same as my username here <3

The Mandalorian had left the ship on autopilot while he went to his own quarters to rest, leaving Cara to look over you and the baby from the cockpit. Though, very tired herself, she too fell asleep near the back-storage compartments, searching for something to keep herself awake. Unknown to the final adult, you had been listening intently by the door of your own room, waiting until her breathing pattern evened, but settled for hearing Cara’s footsteps fade away. Looking back, the baby was fast asleep in his pod, you had made sure to tuck him in snugly as he liked, rocking him gently until his bright eyes closed.

When the coast was clear, you opened the door, moving silently to the cockpit, your footsteps drowned out by the usual hum of the Razor Crest. Sliding into the captain’s chair, you found it to be well worn, but nevertheless, comfortable. Looking down at the navigation computer, you could see the ship was cruising safely, on route to Coruscant. Perhaps the Mandalorian needed supplies the previous planet failed to have, though something in the back of your mind felt otherwise.

“Young one.”

Looking up from the computer, you jumped in your seat, heart rate spiking and easing in a matter of seconds.

“Oh. It’s y-you.” The green glow from a night ago floated idly before you. “Am…Am I dreaming?”

Hearty laughter filled the cockpit. “No, no. You aren’t though, you should be, young one.”

Scowling, you turned around, making sure everyone else on board was still asleep. “Be quiet!” You hissed. “You’ll wake everyone u-up!”

“Hm. You worry far too much.” The voice contemplated. “Though I won’t take up much of your time, as you will be needing it soon enough.”

“Do all Jedi t-talk like you and my o-old master do?” Twirling your braid, you eased into the chair.

“Not all, but most from my time; I think so.” The voice sighed. “Now, do not sidetrack me again. I have come to give you a message.”

“Hey!” Your hands flew up to shield your eyes as the green luminescence grew uncomfortably close, warming the entirety of your body.

“Listen close, young padawan. Your connection to the Force is formidable, second to the likes of none, though take no pride and if you do have any, stow it away. The order of the Jedi are almost dissolved to time, brought back into the living Force. There is something inside of you that has compromised the entirety of your being, something born of darkness.”

Clenching your jaw, you could feel your pulse quicken, head spinning. “…Y-You’re scaring me.”

“Calamity has been wedded to fear and now that very essence lives inside of you, little one. All of us can feel it. All of us can feel it growing. You must see that it is eliminated.”

“Please stop…” You begged.

“This is a path you must walk alone. If you allow it to manifest it will mean a thousand lifetimes of. -“

“Please!”

The voice continued on despite your protests, desperation and fear was all you could feel, causing your body to shake and shiver. All you wanted was a moment’s peace. A moment where you did not have to think about all that was wrong.

“Young one! Listen!” It demanded, getting on your last nerve.

“I said STOP!” Thrusting your hand out a wave of energy vigorously left your body, sending the green light back to wherever it came from.

Left alone yet again, you waited a few minutes, waiting for it to come back, but it never did. Unsure what to do with the host of information just given to you, it was all too much for at once, all too much for you mind, and all too much for your heart to take into consideration. So much for the moment to yourself; even with the being gone, it had left an immeasurable weight on your young shoulders. But whatever it was inside of you was growing, that much you had managed to understand. Observing your arm, you could see the faint red glow of your veins pulsing every so often. Deciding not to give sleep a second chance, you closed your eyes, doing your best to quiet the storm brewing in your mind, hoping in meditation there would be peace.

*****

Din swore he could have heard someone laugh. The sound was strong and pure, surely nothing from even his most tame dreams. Then again, what would the others think if he were to wake them suddenly with claims of hearing a voice? The more worry he would be the cause of. He went back to his usual business, polishing his armor, tending to wounds, and avoiding the thoughts in the back of his mind. Then came another round of noise, reminiscent of bickering but in a language he couldn’t quite understand. Confident he wasn’t going insane; Din donned his armor and went to investigate.

Back in storage, Cara had fallen asleep, having found a cozy spot of her own. Without a sound, Din made his way through a small corridor, finding nothing peculiar until he spotted Beviin floating just above the captain’s chair in a common pose; eyes open and glowing a familiar yellow.

“Beviin?” He tested after taking a few tentative steps.

No answer.

As Din drew closer, he could feel something heavy wash over him. Curiously, he could feel the wet sensation of a few tears falling down the curve of his cheeks. That small voice of reason screamed at him to stop and wait until his child was done with whatever magic they were conducting, but as per usual, Din decided otherwise. The very instant he placed a calm hand on their shoulder, both parties were sent flying in opposite directions. Shocked at the sudden force, the poor man could only lay on the floor for a few seconds, trying to process what had just happened.

“M-Master?” Came a weak voice.

Shaking himself out of his stunned stupor, aware of what they had just called him, Din scanned the area to see Beviin rubbing the back of their head; evidently having been thrown at the transparisteel windshield.

“Kark. Are you okay?” Scrambling forward, the Mandalorian collected the child in his arms, Beviin letting him do so.

“My head…” They groaned, trying to focus their gaze on anything. “W-Why are you awake?”

“I could as you the same thing.” He sighed, knowing exactly what the problem was.

A familiar cry caught both their attentions, causing Beviin to run for their room, Din close behind. “Little Brother!”

All the clamor from a moment ago had woken the baby from his deep slumber, sending the tiny one into a startled frenzy. Beviin scooped him up from his bed, cradling him with a curious familiarity, trying their best to soothe him with soft words. Unfortunately, it was all for naught and his son only cried louder.

“It’s not working.” Din observed.

“Yeah.” Beviin growled, rolling their eyes. “Here. H-He needs **_you_**.”

“What?”

Instead of giving him a clearer answer, Beviin handed him the baby, guiding his hands so they held him securely. Perhaps they had spied him holding his son too often with just one arm. The older child motioned for Din to take their cot, and he obliged, remembering his own days as a foundling. The young one yawned, nestling closer to Din without burrowing under his armor. After about a half hour of rocking the tiny one in silence, he had succeeded in lulling him back to sleep.

“Don’t think I’ve forgotten what just happened.” Din whispered, debating whether or not he should return the baby to its bed. Unfortunately, at just the slightest movement the little one would stir, though Din didn’t mind his current position.

“Wasn’t betting on it.” They shrugged, laying down on the floor.

“What were-.”

Beviin gave him a horrific glare, enough to silence Din immediately. “You’ll wake him!” They hissed.

“In the morning. We talk.”

They shrugged, resigned to their fate. It was quiet for a while, he continued to cradle his son, checking on Beviin to see if they had fallen asleep, but no such luck; instead they seemed focused, and eventually started humming. It was a curious tune, haunting yet enigmatic and soft. It wasn’t any that Din himself had heard, but with each note he could feel his eyelids become unbearably heavy; every time he blinked, opening his eyes was a task.

“Beviin…If…You…”

His child looked up at him, almost knowingly, but kept up their chilling composition until Din himself submitted to the intensity of languor.

*****

Dutifully you kept pace, following directly behind the Mandalorian with the baby securely in the carries strapped around your torso. Though you hadn’t slept in a while, the fact that the Mandalorian had been able to give you the energy you needed. It had been just an idea born from guilt over having caused your guardian such hardship. There wasn’t a day where you hadn’t felt his exhaustion as it was so clearly present in the living Force all around him. Originally you hadn’t expected to use it so soon for fear you would put him into too deep a sleep, though last night seemed as good as any. Not to mention how incredibly adorable it was to see the baby all curled up in his arms. With the both of them asleep it left you alone, though you didn’t mind. It was your turn to keep watch over the rest of the clan. If he had noticed or found anything to be out of the ordinary, the Mandalorian didn’t say anything.

Instead he brought everyone along once the Razor Crest landed soundly on Coruscant. The first order of business would be to go find a market, though oddly, Cara went somewhere else, leaving the three of you for the time being. When you asked where she was off to, the Mandalorian provided distraction, asking you to carry the baby for the journey out. Sure, it was suspicious, but adults often were, though sometimes, for no reason at all. Deciding not to dwell on the matter for too long, you kept yourself occupied, copying the Mandalorian’s exact steps, having to nearly jump from place to place since his stride was much larger than your own. His pace suddenly stopped in front of a small booth, one of many that lined the upper streets of the city-wide planet. After a brief exchange, he turned back to you a large, brown bundle in his hands.

“Here. You best put this on. It’ll help keep you safe.”

“A gift…” you murmured, the baby cooing in unison.

“Hm. I suppose so. I have something for the little one, but I’ll have to see how it fits back on the ship.”

As with all the clothes you had been given, the cloak was too large for your body, the hood covering too much of your face and the length nearly tripping you up. But it was something to grow into. The streets seemed to go on forever, each bend, each turn leading to a new one, all of them filled with thousands of curiosities and interesting characters.

“Little brother, what was it that y-you wanted?” The savory smell of something baked caught your attention, reminding you of your promise. “Cookies.”

The Mandalorian was just ahead, surely, he wouldn’t notice you were gone for a few seconds. Stopping by the stand you gazed upon the dozens of baked goods, all fresh and warm, just ready for the eating. Mouth salivating, you realized you were without any form of currency but that wasn’t about to stop you. The seller kindly produced all that you asked for, packaging them nicely in fine paper.

“Twenty credits!” The human said cheerfully.

Oh boy. “I’m sorry, but I don’t have any money, but that’s okay.” You put on your best smile, pouring in as much innocence as you could. It had been a while since you had last used this trick.

“You have no money and that’s okay!”

It worked perfectly.

“Here.” You handed the baby a small cookie, infused with frog meat. “Go slow or y-you’ll get sick.”

Looking back up, you found swarms of people; at noon, the city was certainly far busier than it had been in the morning. And unfortunately, in the hordes of people, the Mandalorian was nowhere to be seen.


	29. A Small Guide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After having accidentally lost the Mandalorian during your second trip to Coruscant, you and the child happen upon something ancient. Something thought to be long destroyed,

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Hope you are all staying healthy! 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter! Let me know how I'm doing and if you have any requests for writings!

The baby had started to shift uncomfortably, his lip quivering slightly. You bounced him slightly, trying to keep calm and gather your bearings. With the Mandalorian nowhere in sight, the answer was simple: go find the ship and he will eventually return, and everything will be fine. Worst case scenario being the baby would cry and you would be reprimanded for stealing cookies and feeding them to the little one.

“Oh Force!” You muttered, pulling your cloak tight around yourself. “O-Okay. I just have to sense h-him, that’s all.”

For the first time in your life there was some semblance of stability, and now in an utter act of hunger and stupidity you had lost it in one go without even meaning to. Trying to gather all your focus only amplified the incessant noise of Coruscant, giving you a mild headache. You were tempted to throw a fit, the frustration building faster than the New Republic, but now you had to set an example for the baby.

“I-It’s okay, little brother,” patting his small head, you did your best to placate him. “We’ll find your Papa. Or ours? I-I still can’t believe anything that’s happened…”

Glancing around, you tried to find where you had entered the market area, though found that retracing your steps was only more disorienting. Citizens, travelers, smugglers, and criminals alike brushed past you, paying no mind, but you couldn’t help but analyze everyone who dared get close. During your first time on Cyne’s ship, he made the majority of his profit inviting ‘guests’ aboard. Some of their faces would be forever embedded in your mind, and in perhaps the most populated planet in the universe, surely any of them could be about. Not that you couldn’t handle yourself, but now you had a tiny green baby to care for in the absence of its father. Or rather, yours as well.

The chaos was all consuming, the previous wonder of the market streets long gone and replaced with panic. Clutching your brother tight to your body, you jumped atop one of the stands, ignoring the annoyed complaints, continuing leaping from vendor to vendor, looking for anyone wearing armor brighter than a Tatooine sun.

“I don’t see him anywhere.” You confessed, pausing to catch your breath. “D-Do you sense him?”

He cooed, connecting to your mind with ease. The baby hadn’t a clue where he was either but had picked up on something else.

“What is it?... You don’t know? Oh, so it’s s-somewhere safe, then, yeah?”

Nodding, you handed him another cookie which he snatched greedily.

“Lead the way then.”

Through your connection, the little one provided guidance, leading you higher and higher, up the never-ending buildings.

With hardly any energy left, you decided to take a break near a docking zone, you blended in well enough and would probably just be taken as just another young pilot with your new armor and clothes. While the sky was growing darker, countless lights from skyscrapers, pods and signs illuminated the atmosphere. It was nearing the end of the evening, surely the Mandalorian was searching for the both of you by now. Yes, it must have been so. At any moment, that Beskar clad warrior would come dashing forward, ready to bring you home to the ship.

“I’m sorry, little brother.” Sighing, you laid back, freeing the baby from his carrier. “It’s m-my fault we’re lost.”

He looked up at you, saying nothing before taking off at high speeds, vastly unexpected for someone with such short legs. You yelled for him to come back, immediately giving chase. The young one had an air of complete determination, making his way across the docking area in no time at all, heading for the closest building.

“Y-You’re only a baby! Who do you know?!” Lungs burning, you didn’t know how much longer you could sprint, though at this point you didn’t have much of a choice. With everything that your brother had told you about the previous adventures he had with his father, his safety was of the utmost importance. Following him past crowds of people, you entered through one set of many grand doors, unaware of where the both of you were. A small green figure waddled into a corridor, absent of any people, guards or droids, stopping abruptly.

“Gotcha!” You cried, picking him up and securing him back into the carrier snugly. “I-I swear you waited until I was exhausted…”

“Aaa!” He cried, a toothy smile appearing on his face.

“Give me a second, Little Brother. Where are we? I-It’s so damn cold…”

High marble walls kept in the cold atmosphere, making you ever thankful for your new cloak. In all honesty you had no idea how you had managed to survive in times past clothed in a hood, bandages and minimal wear. Looking about, the walls made you feel smaller than you actually were, they seemed intent on trying to reach for the heavens but were stopped by the flat ceiling. The baby had led you into a deserted hallway, void of any other individuals, but from where you stood, you could hear the talk of politicians, citizens and construction workers. You tried to go back the way you came, to observe the people present, but a strange force kept you from moving forward.

“Little Brother…” you growled. “Stop it, right now!” Your legs moved furiously, trying to find traction, but your body remained where it was. “Fine! What would you have us do then! He is probably looking for us right now!”

The little one let you go, turning his head to look up at you. His tiny hand reached out pointing further down the hall. Squinting your eyes to get a better look, there seemed to be no end to it, and once you started walking, you found there to be no clear door or connecting corridors. There was one half of you that felt a sense of familiarity, the kind of feeling that bore comfort. However, regular waves of shivers coursing through your body confirmed that this was no safe haven, or at least it hadn’t been.

“Do you know this place?” You whispered, not wanting your voice to echo. He made no clear response, his own mind focused on something else, something innate. The child was following his own feeling, he had sensed something and was dead set on finding what it was. Not having long enough legs, or enough stamina, the little one chose to take a slight detour while searching for your guardian.

The nearly silent sound of your cloth boots against the stone floor stopped, the corridor having come to a rather sudden end, albeit a strange one. The small hallway widened at the last few yards, meeting a vast wall adorned with a massive mural. It was of a figure, distinctly humanoid in shape and form, in the being’s hands was a lightsaber, alight and in the direct center. With no strong lighting it was hard to see, but a small window from high above offered a slim ray of light, illuminating the precious stones that formed the picture. Eyes widening, you mouth opened in shock, never in your life had you seen so much Kyber in one place, especially refined and glowing. Casting one last look over your shoulder, you made sure no one had followed you thus far, with the coast clear you faced the mural again, placing one hand on the cool stones.

A brilliant light burst forth immediately, blinding both you and the baby at once. Though you opened your mouth to scream, no sound came. Instead the light consumed your world, enveloping everything within it in a flash.

“KRIFF!”

With a sound thud, you landed firmly on the ground, your back taking the brunt of your sudden fall. For a moment you laid there wondering if you had imagined everything in the last few seconds, but after sitting up, you knew it had been real. You and the baby were still facing the mural, though turning around, you found yourself no longer in the dark corridor, but a small room, bedecked with walls upon walls of books, scrolls, strange cubes, that must of hosted some sort of information and ancient datapads. A thick layer of dust covered everything, from the texts to the small reading table in the middle of the room. On top of the table was one soft blue light, saving the little library from darkness, next to it a little book, befitting of someone your size, but clearly worn and dirty from time and neglect.

“Did…Did you know this was here?” The baby shook his head, promptly sneezing right after, the dust in the room irritating his little nose. “I guess this is what you sensed, Little Brother.”

Walking forward, you moved the stacks of texts out of your path as you made your way to the table. Upon your approach, you noticed the single blue flame at the center flickered, wavering, almost threatening to disappear before settling once again. Shrugging, you sat down, crossing your legs, wondering if touching the book was a good idea. Deciding it looked innocent enough, you covered the baby with your cloak before blowing the dust clean off it, revealing a delicate azure cover on the brink of falling off. Your hand shook slightly as you gingerly opened the book. On the inside of the cover was a short list, each apparent set of words in different writing. Flipping through some of the work, you found curious images, and a host of information, most written in Basic, but some in another language all together. The child looked up at you expectantly, his ears up high.

“What?” You asked, confused. “I can’t read this!” Shutting the cover, you scrunched your nose. “I…I don’t know how to read Basic or read in general.” Scratching your head, you sighed. “I guess I can read some signs, but other than that…”

The baby sneezed again, giving a small cry of discomfort.

“Aw, Force, we should get out of here before someone notices.” Taking the book and slipping it into your robe, you turned to face the mural, placing a hand on it again, going back into the world in a flash of white.

From high above the building you had come out of you and your brother sat quietly together, looking through the pages of the book you had found. Both of you had decided that a common enemy could not reach you up here, and feeling rather drained, it was best to stay put. Wandering would only make it that much more difficult for the Mandalorian to find you. So, with a handful of pastries left, together you looked over the illustrations in a hushed awe, fancying the depictions of grand beasts to the proper diagrams.

When the light had become too dim for looking over the pictures, you stowed the book away, wrapping your cloak around the baby, encasing him in warmth. After singing him to sleep, you entertained yourself by waving to speeders on their way, counting how many legal officers chasing criminals would pass by, and listening in on conversations that happened to invade your mind.

You had been moments away from deciding to meditate when a desperate voice sounded from behind you. Turning rather tiredly, your eyes looked upon a familiar visor.

“Kark! Beviin?! The kid! I thought I’d lost you!”


	30. Another Gift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally safe again, Din wants to know why you left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please send in requests! Quarantine has me bored and I want to make people happy!

It was getting more difficult to keep your eyes open, you tried not to blink for too long, fearing you would fall asleep. Even so, years of living in fear had you well prepared for staying awake for long periods of time. Though, that didn’t mean you weren’t absolutely exhausted. Initially you heard the sound of someone yelling before fully registering who it was. But as soon as you saw that distinct glimmer, you knew he had found the both of you. In only a few quick strides, the Mandalorian made it over to the both of you, nearly tackling you to the ground in a hug, but he stopped just a few feet short.   
  


“Are you hurt? Is he hurt?”

“N-No?” You yawned, pulling back the side of your cloak revealing an adorable, sleeping baby, tuckered out from a stressful day.

Your guardian let out a sigh of relief, and for a moment, you thought you had escaped any scolding for wandering off.

“Hold onto him tight.” He ordered. With one arm, the Mandalorian pulled you flush to his side, and to your sudden fright took off using a jet pack. You held onto the baby securely, pulling him tightly to your chest, squeezing your eyes shut as not to be tempted to look down at the millions of lights below. Wincing in pain, you could feel the Mandalorian’s gloved hand digging into your side, his fingers bruising the skin underneath your garments.

Upon hearing his boots land firmly on the ground once again, you dared to open your eyes, glancing down you could see that by some miracle, the little one had slept through the whole flight. His grip shifted from your waist to your wrist, holding far too firmly for your comfort, still, you said nothing, letting him pull you back towards the ship. Your feet moved quickly, having trouble keeping up with the Mandalorian’s gait. Extending your mind into the Force, you tried to search his feelings, wanting to see what lay beneath the apparent anger. Unable to find what you were desperately looking for, you relented to failure, unaware a part of you had not let go of him.

He opened the hatch, pulling you in front of him, taking the baby swiftly from your arms. “I’m putting him to bed. Don’t. Move.”

Involuntarily, you started shaking, nodding in reply, fearing if you spoke now, your voice would be in utter shambles. After all the progress you had been making steadying it, it would have been devastating to regress now. Deep down you knew the Mandalorian would never harm you he had even been relatively patient with touch until you were comfortable (Unless it was completely necessary). But in the past, others hadn’t been nearly as considerate, giving into their emotions as soon as they made themselves apparent. Now in relative fear and anticipation, you waited near the cockpit, one hand fiddling with the thick fabric of your cloak, the other resting on the book you and the baby had found. Oddly enough it offered a sense of comfort, that soft blue textile against your skin. You were feeling the ridges and dips in the strange emblem on the front cover when you heard the door to your quarters open and close and suddenly you found your boots to be very interesting. The Mandalorian sighed. The exhaustion was prominent even in that one breath. There was no way you would be able to get close and help him sleep after wandering off.

Perhaps a century passed, the both of you standing in tense silence, so disoriented by the situation, you could feel your legs buckling slightly. Thank the sweet Force the cloak hid such signs.

“Beviin.”

He could have called you by your new name a thousand times and it would still never fail to amaze you. Even so, your eyes remained fixed on your boots. While you remained unmoved, he stepped closer, kneeling down in front his hands coming forward and slowly drawing back your hood inch by inch until it laid against your shoulders. Now he could see plainly how your long ears fell warm, even through the leather of his gloves.

“Please, look at me.”

Shaking your head, your eyes twitched furiously, doing their best not to let a single tear fall. All in all, it worked, but at the cost of making your face quite flushed. Since you refused, the Mandalorian scooted back, turned and laid down so that he was looking up at you from the durasteel floor. Startled at this strange move, your hands flew to cover your eyes; how dearly missed your Nexu mask was.

“Please.”

“I can’t!” You blurted, taking in a huge breath. “I…I just can’t!” In actuality, you wouldn’t. Though the man’s face was covered, gazing upon that damned visor, you knew you would see disappointment. His patience had come to a rather abrupt end, the Mandalorian’s flipped over, sitting upright, seizing your shoulders in his large grasp, jerking your whole head up, forcing your gaze upon his visor.

______________________

Din could feel the sweat beading at his forehead, dripping down and falling over the curve of his nose, only when the muscle in his jaw ache did, he make it go lax, releasing the tension. Still holding Beviin by the shoulders, Din released a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding. Still too furious, he turned his head to the side, knowing that if he looked upon Beviin’s fearful gaze all his anger would wash away at a time he actually needed it.

“Did you mean to?” He asked testily, his grip tightening.

“N-NO!” Came their strangled answer, though in all honesty it was more of a desperate, angry cry. “No! I-I got distracted and I thought I could find you and then I looked back and you weren’t there so I kept looking and we got lost and so we waited and-.”

After the second ‘no’ Din stopped listening. He wasn’t the reason. It had only been a minute or two perhaps when he turned around having realized that Beviin’s humming had stopped. They often did so to placate and entertain the baby, thinking he didn’t care to hear, but in fact he did. Upon wheeling around to find nothing but a sea of city dwellers, his heart had started racing, his mind working up a thousand theories, settling on abandoning him, taking the baby along with them. After all they did share the same sorcerer’s abilities and were honestly getting along famously. It had been the only plausible explanation. Beviin wouldn’t have been forcibly taken without at the very least making a horrendous scene. Zoning back into his position, Din took in part of the explanation, something about food, getting lost, the baby running away after ticking them, and when they had finally caught him, they had gone up to a high place to wait and listen for him. Relieved, Din let his hold on them go; he was slightly startled to see Beviin cradle the part where he grabbed them.

“Did…I hurt you?”

Beviin, still red in the face from a winded explanation, rolled up one of the short sleeves of their tunic, revealing deep, crimson marks from his hands. It would be fully bruised in a matter of hours for sure.

“I’m so sorry,” Din started, trying to keep his voice void of emotion, unsure of what would surface. “I didn’t mean to-.”

Those small arms wrapped tightly around his waist gripping with might, their head pressing into his stomach. “I don’t wanna go…I don’t wanna ever go…”

“You don’t have to.” Reaching into his pouch, he fished out something he had been working on for a good while, since Sorgan to be precise. It was a few crafted pieces of metal he had fisted together in an intricate manner, and in the center, an inconspicuous location device. Taking his creation, he opened it and slipped it around Beviin’s bicep, securing it into place.

“With this on,” Din said, tapping on it lightly, “I’ll always find you. Okay?” They nodded, a small smile pulling at their scarred face. The Mandalorian could feel them shake and sway, obviously tired and very much sleep deprived.

“You need to sleep, Beviin.” He sighed contentedly.

“But I don’t have to!” His child protested defiantly, going limp as Din tried to lead them to their quarters. His grip on them loosed and they were able to slip away, hiding behind his captain’s chair. They squinted their eyes, ever determined. “Not unless you give me back my lightsaber.”

“You’re not getting it back,” Din grumbled. “And you’re not to use your powers until we figure things out.” Beviin slowly lowered their hand and the weapon at his side stopped shaking.

“What!?” They hissed, keeping their tone down as not to wake the baby. “That’s not fair! First you take my lightsaber and now I can’t use my ‘powers’?! I can’t even control it sometimes!”

“Exactly my point, Beviin.” Walking over, he tried to pry the older child from the chair.

“But, Master!”

“What?” Din paused in confusion. “Quit…calling me that.”

Their muscles stopped straining in effort to shove his arm off them. “What? You don’t like **_Jedi_** terms, **Master**?” They mocked with a grin, kicking him in the Beskar, “Ow!”

Jedi? Din could have sworn he’d heard that term at least once, though it had slipped from memory, most likely due to lack of interest.

“I don’t like it. It sounds debasing.” Din stated, checking to make sure you hadn’t injured your foot.

“Well then what the hell am I supposed to call you?” Beviin huffed, eyeing the lightsaber hooked on his utility belt.

“There’s a word from the language of my people.” His child’s eyes lost their tired quality, suddenly growing interested.

“Buir.” He said, relishing the sound.

Beviin’s face contorted in confusion, “Boo…Boo-Eeer?”

Their several very punctuated and strange pronunciations were in fact quite hilarious and adorable, but as not to discourage his child from the language, Din only smiled, forgetting they could not see his face.

“Bü-ér!” They whispered confidently, thinking they had finally figured it out. “If you tell me another story, y’know **_maybe,_** I’ll go to bed.”

Din raised an eyebrow, thinking back on how his last time resting had been suspicious to put it lightly. Though if Beviin was only requiring a story in order to go to bed and the hopefully to sleep, then what kind of father would he be in saying no? So, recalling a tale from long ago, Din let himself relax, knowing he and his clan were safe.


	31. Living Share

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a slight problem upon waking, the Mandalorian decides to head back to Nevarro after Cara's return from a secret assignment

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Taking requests for any kind of fic! also gonna update my other story real soon! Send requests in the comments or my tumblr under the same URL!

Your plan had backfired in about an hour. Once the Mandalorian finished his tale of a valiant queen from days past and started his second story, you had forgotten entirely about your mission to help your adoptive father to sleep. Instead, once morning came, you felt the sensation of familiar little hands poking at you. Eyes opening your gaze met those large inquisitive ones, though that feeling of fondness didn’t last very long. After setting the little one aside, you moved to run a hand through your hair only to have it caught in a tangled mess.

“Kriffing hell…” Glancing around, you noticed the Mandalorian was nowhere to be seen, most likely running an errand. Not able to leave the baby by himself, you picked him up to go to the fresher and see what the hell had happened to your hair, and when the mirror revealed your reflection your grip on your brother tightened.

“KARK!”

Mouth open in absolute horror, you stared at the womp rat’s nest that was your head of hair. Everything save your braid, was in complete disarray.

Laughing nervously, you set him back on the ground. “Little Brother…What the **_hell_** did you do to me?”

While you were entirely without a brush, sadly, having one wouldn’t have done you any good. The child babbled mindlessly on the floor, watching with minimal interest as you rummaged around the refresher, looking for anything of use, finally finding a small shaving blade. Taking a deep breath, you examined every aspect of your head, slicing off long, tangled locks as you went, and disposing of them properly. Thank the Force your braid was still intact; you were still very much fond of it. Once you had completed the dirty work, you dipped your head under the water faucet, washing off all the little remnants of your once long-grown locks.

Side-eyeing your little brother all that anger dissipated quickly. “You…I’m still mad.” An obvious lie.

The familiar sound of the main hatch opening sounded the Mandalorian’s return. Shaking your head vigorously to dry off, you picked up the little one and left the fresher to see your guardian returned along with Cara. In all the ruckus from yesterday, you had completely forgotten that you hadn’t seen her for almost a whole day. Where in the hell had she gone?

“Hey, kiddo- ** _whoa_** …” You could see Cara’s jaw tighten as she valiantly held in a sudden laugh. She glanced briefly at the Mandalorian, the two of them exchanging silent words.

Back on Jeddah Asa had instructed you on how to execute what she had called a ‘proper Jed’aii hair style’, but in your opinion it was one of the most hideous cuts you had ever seen. Thank Maker that Asa was too weak a ghost to do it herself. This wasn’t nearly as bad, just choppier and disheveled.

Cara took a deep breath, “I’m not laughing! I am not laughing, I promise.”

Rolling your eyes, you sat in the co-pilot’s seat, daring her to say more with a short stare.

“Well, you gonna tell us what happened?” Mando asked, voice slightly off.

Scratching the spot on the back of the baby’s head he could never reach, you regaled them with the short-lived tale, not skimping of your annoyance. Both of them each offered their condolences, Cara patting you on the head.

“Here, eat up.” Thanking the Mandalorian, he exchanged a warm package for the baby. Happily unwrapping the paper, your senses were consumed with the smell of a meat stuffed bun, with one hand you covered your mouth, embarrassed by the enormous smile that had spread across your face.

“Where were you, yesterday?” You said with a mouthful, void of any and all manners, your sharp teeth destroying the meal.

“Uh, just out getting supplies,” Cara said far too casually. “Y’know we were really short on medical supplies. Bacta and stuff…”

Pausing, you wiped a mess of crumbs from your mouth, “But I couldn’t sense you at all yesterday.”

The great warrior woman clenched her jaw, glancing over at the Mandalorian who immediately tensed

*******

Blue milk spilled all over the little one’s face, Din having squeezed the bottle too much at Beviin’s question. At this his older child nearly choked on their breakfast, laughing quite joyfully, the baby finding the situation less amusing, whined while Din wiped him clean.

Once their laughter had died, they went back to eating. “Well, I couldn’t sense either of you, so I guess it was just me.” Beviin decided.

Din could see Cara physically relax at their words, having given up pursuing the truth. In fact, he was still surprised they hadn’t questioned his own absence that morning. Beviin had fallen asleep slumped against the control board, he had considered moving the child to their bed, but decided against it upon looking at their peaceful, sleeping mien. Before the early morning, Cara had made contact via commlink, having succeeded in her mission. Originally, Din had planned to take the children out to the market streets while Cara snuck away. She had much more success than he.

Whatever the hell had happened to Beviin was done back on the pirate’s barge, back floating out in dead space. With the children distracted Cara made her way back to the ship in search of any clues to Beviin’s ailment. Indeed, she had come upon a major lead, as well as numerous files stored in the ship regarding all past and present ‘assets’. All information had yet to be delved into, but Din would need time and a space away from curious Beviin and the baby.

“Finish up quickly,” Din said, taking his seat in the cockpit. “We’re moving out today.”

Beviin shoved the remainder of the food in their mouth, taking the baby from Din’s arms. “Where’re we going?”

“Nevarro.” He sighed. “It’s no place for kids, so you’re going to have to stay with my friend, alright?” They nodded. “Good. Put the little one down for a nap, you should too, but do what you will. The trip won’t be long.”

Beviin seemed a little too eager to have alone time, practically skipping to their shared quarters, something in their cloak shifting oddly.

******

Casting your cloak off to the end of your cot, you gently placed your brother at your side, taking out the book the both of you had discovered.

“You can look a little but then you gotta sleep.” The baby cried out defiantly, leaning forward to bite your arm. “No! You have to sleep so you can grow big and strong, okay?” He relented, leaning against your side.

Opening the cover, you took a few seconds, examining the curious text on the inside cover. Each word was of a different style, one feeling particularly familiar, though you had no idea of how to read. Your birth mother had always said you were far too young to go to the local school in your prefecture back on Stewjon. The few friends you did have would occasionally read stories of the rebellion and the evil Empire. How you wished you just had a little time to learn, something about this volume was connected to the living Force, you could feel it.

“Do you want to look at the creature pictures again?” You mumbled sadly. Flipping through the pages, you stopped very suddenly, eyes going wide in amazement. The baby noticed it as well, smiling at the icon painted on the page below. His cute little hand pawed at the intricate profile of a Mandalorian helmet. There was no question, the shining glory paired with the thin, dark visor was practically identical to your Mandalorian’s. Just to make sure, you moved as stealthily as you could towards the door of your room, sliding it open by hand just enough so you could see out with one eye. Thank the Force he was turned at the moment, talking to Cara, giving you a perfect view of his headgear. Completely reminiscent of the drawing you felt an eagerness to decode the book grow stronger along with the return of your unfortunate symptoms. Perhaps you closed the door with too much vigor and perhaps both the adults noticed, but you didn’t really care.

“Do you think he’s like us, he just doesn’t know it?” You asked the baby, pacing the length of your room. “Maybe not…he could actually be really old, and he keeps calling it ‘magic’…”

Completely ignoring your current revelation, the child was focused on something else much more pressing. Slightly annoyed at his sidetracking, you sighed. “I’m not letting you help me again. I have to figure out how to keep it all at bay.” Sure the effects of the elixir were becoming harder to control and subdue, but there was no way in hell you were going to let the tiny one deplete himself of energy at your expense. He had been insisting on helping you the past few days, sensing your struggle through your blossoming connection in the Force. Tucking him comfortably into his pod, it was nearly painful looking into his sorrowful eyes.

“I know I can control it if I really try.” You reasoned. “I won’t let myself hurt you all anymore, I’d rather die.” Feeling the child’s wavering argument, you let out a groan. “Fine then. How about this.”

While your self-healing abilities seemed to be working against you as of late, but somehow extending your abilities to others was much easier. Laying just a finger on the baby’s tiny temple, you could feel energy draining from your body, your essence, rising and falling very suddenly. Stopping just before fainting, you looked back at the little one who seemed to glow, or perhaps that was just your exhaustion. In return, he leaned forward in his bed, pressing his head against your forehead. The bloodlust quelled again for the time being.


	32. A Clue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Cara delve deeper into you past, while the return of a force ghost leaves you rather perplexed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy! I'm still taking requests! Also can people comment on here or did I accidentally turn comments off, I can't really tell.

Din listened intently as Beviin put the baby down for a short nap; there was a short bit of banter before silence.

“What did you find out.” He asked flatly, facing Cara in the co-pilot’s chair. His friend pursing her lips, a rather solemn look coming over her.

“…I found the experimentation chambers. Clearly that was where Beviin had been at some point. No one else could cause the wreck in there, and everyone else on the ship deserted.” Fishing into one of her pouches, she produced a very small glass vial, empty except for a thin residue around the top of the rim, a strange label, stuck on the outside. “I’m assuming whatever happened to the kid has to do with whatever the hell this is.”

Din caught the small vial as Cara tossed it to him. “Do you have any idea what it is?”

“I don’t but,” Pulling out a small drive, she proceeded to plug it into a datapad, “I’m sure this can tell us something about it.”

Leaning it, the screen flared to life, an much to his own surprise, none of the files were secured by any means. Perhaps that idiot thought his Magnaguards would be enough protection for the ship and everything inside of it.

“Kriffing hell…” Cara whispered.

As soon as his eyes focused on the first few images, Din snatched the pad away from Cara, unsure of how to handle his own surging emotions. Skipping past more pictures, Din came to what he had actually meant to find. Their evaluation.

_INITIAL TEST RESULTS  
TEST SUBJECT INFORMATION   
  
Name ---------, Unknown  
DOB Unknown  
Sex X  
Age Unknown  
Height 35  
Weight 31 Section C  
Cell 019  
  
Merit Rank (001-100) 100  
  
PHYSICAL TRAIRS  
  
BMI 17.8_

_Unexpected Abilities Advanced Healing  
Pain tolerance (01-10) 10  
  
  
POST-RESULTS *HIGHER MIND* _

_  
Self   
Positivity (01-10) 01  
Sensitivity (01-10) 09  
Control (01-10) 01  
Regeneration (0-1) 07_

_  
After the first dose, the following behaviors have been noted:   
Shaking; choking; epiphora; vocalizations; intended violence to analyst; hematiderosis; unwanted telepathy  
  
HIGHER MIND EXTENDED RESULTS   
  
Physical Counter 68   
Emotional Control 10   
Strength Control 43   
Force Control 13   
Higher Mind Awakening 100   
Higher Mind Overriding 02 _

_Enemy Response 100  
Enemy Elimination 100   
Enemy Discernment 32_

_Advanced Regeneration 04_

“What in the hell is ‘Higher Mind’?” Din growled, searching the rest of the report for answers to his millions of questions. But much to his vast disappointment, the rest of the document had been redacted and was simply unrecoverable. Before his grip could damage the pad, Cara pulled it from his grasp.

“Hey, hey, hey. It’s okay. We can figure this out.” After making sure Din had taken a few deep breaths to calm himself down, Cara gave the report another look. “This is obviously illegal testing, but for what?” She thought to herself for a few moments, finding that she was at a loss.

“Beviin might have some idea, but…We can’t-.” Mid-sentence, Din was interrupted, the sound of the door to the children’s quarters closing making his head snap to attention. He could just make out the soft red glow of Beviin’s eye vanish behind the door.

Switching the door open after about ten minutes of stressful waiting, Din was surprised to find the baby wrapped in Beviin’s arms, the both of them asleep in their cot. Skeptical to see if Bevin was actually asleep, he waved a hand a few inches from their face, getting no reaction, and seeing the steadiness of their breath, their slumber was certainly real. Unfortunately, not for much longer. Gingerly, he took the baby from their arms, placing him in his pod, wrapping him snugly in a soft blanket.

“Beviin…” Din sighed, shaking their shoulder gently. Immediately, they jerked awake, their head looking from side to side for any impending danger. Once their eyes laid upon his visor, they calmed, still looking rather sleepy.

“Urgh…what…” Yawning widely, Beviin rubbed their eyes furiously. “Sorry…I fell asleep.”

Taking them by the hand, Din simply led them by the hand, out of their quarters and into the main corridor,

“You need to eat something, little one. It’s been a while.” While it was true that his child hadn’t eaten in a while and needed to maintain a healthy diet, hopefully the food would loosen their lips and provide a distraction somewhat. Thank the stars he had some leftovers saved from the market the previous day. “Here, have this.” Beviin smiled tiredly, gratefully taking the warm cup of soup.

“OOoOOo this is good.” They murmured, taking a big sip. “When…When can I have my lightsaber back?”

“Your what? Oh.” Biting his lip, Din decided to ignore the question entirely, hoping they would leave well enough alone.

“Hey, Beviin, what’s up kiddo?” Coming back from the cockpit, Cara ruffled the child’s hair, still holding the kriffing datapad in her hands.

Before Din could even motion for her to hide it from sight, his child noticed, snatching it from her grasp. His breath halted.

“What’s this?” Their small hands held the datapad upside down to his great shock, then moving to scroll about the document, thank the stars missing the photos from the experimentation. “Are you reading a book? What language is this?” Their bright red eyes looked between he and Cara questioningly, wondering why they were so speechless.

“Beviin,” Cara started. “Can…Can you read?”

The child’s ears fell low. “N-No…I never learned.”

After setting the datapad down, Din was quick to snatch it back. What kriffing luck!

“It’s okay, kid.” His friend assured Beviin, clapping them on the back. “We’ll teach you, just not now. But uh, why’d you never learn?”

Not a bad idea. Perhaps they could siphon information off the kid through friendly conversation.

“Well, I was on a pirate ship for a long time.” They shrugged, staring into their reflection mirrored in the broth of their meal. “And before that, nothing else really happened.”

Clearly, they were holding back, unsurprising for someone, for a child who had been through hell under the ‘ownership’ of a slave trader. Din made no move to stop his friend from probing further but monitored Beviin’s eyes as they continued.

“With all your magic though, it can’t help you read?”

Their face twisted in confusion as they stared at Cara incredulously. “No? I mean I can lift things, but I can’t just ‘magically’ read! Kriffing hell…”

“Language, Beviin.” Din chided as the older child stuck their tongue out at him.

“Besides, I can’t even use my powers until **_you_** say so.” They grumbled. “It’s basically like the cuffs…”

“Cuffs?”

Beviin nodded grimly. “Back on the barge, they used binders. Every time I tried to use… My powers, they got tighter; it hurt. Maybe if I could have just gotten them off, I wouldn’t be…sick.”

They were treading on dangerous ground. Din could see Beviin’s grip on the cup growing stronger, their knuckles turning white “ ** _Ad’ika_** , do you remember what happened?”

“I couldn’t move, but I kept trying. He kept talking and kept laughing, saying he was gonna get so rich since his client was…was someone powerful, I don’t-I don’t know!”

Noticing the remaining soup in Beviin’s cup had started boiling in their grip, Din kneeled down, placing a gentle hand on their small head. “Shh…It’s okay. You’re here now, you’re safe.”

Though it was hardly a clue, if it could even be considered one, it was something. There was a client.

********

After your quick meal, the Mandalorian sent you back to bed, saying he had to discuss ‘adult matters’ with his friend. Taking the reason at face value, you simply nodded and retreated to your shared quarters. He was right. Your place was here now, with your father and brother. There was nothing to fear at least in the present moment, but there was a rather warm sensation emitting from your room…

Opening the door to your quarters, nothing seemed out of place, though as soon as it shut behind your, that familiar green materialized before you. Only somewhat startled, you stumbled back, head hitting the wall.

“Ah, young one, you look well.”  
  


“SHHHH!” You hissed, walking past the light to check on your little brother, thank the Force he was still sound asleep, his tiny nose twitching slightly.

“The boy? He can’t hear us. And while he is also in need of dire help, your present situation is far more critical.”

Yawning, you took a seat on the cot, slipping off your boots. “Tell me somethin’ I don’t know.”

The voice sighed, drawing closer, “You found something the other day, did you not?”

“Yeah.” You admitted freely, producing the book from your cloak. “But I can’t read. So, I just kinda look at all the pictures.”


	33. Negotiations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While still unsure of your feelings towards the Jedi Order, you take a tentative step forward as the Razor Crest moves on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cut the last chapter by accident I'm so sorry! But I really enjoy writing this and hope you all enjoy! If you could let me know your thoughts or how I'm doing that is always appreciated! And requests are open too!
> 
> Stay Safe!

The light seemed to grumble to itself, irritated by your words. “As if the foster situation wasn’t enough of a situation…”

“If you’re done, I’d like to go to bed. My father expects me to be sleeping.” Though obedience was in no way an innate part of your being, your body was tired and a bit overwhelmed. Some rest was certainly overdue.

“’Father’?” The green light questioned. “That Mandalorian?”

“Um, yeah?” 

“Such close bonds are dangerous for a Jedi, especially such a young one. They can become the root of personal obsession; a swift path to the dark side.”

“I-.”

“In the past, living in one of clans would have been preferable, but now that is a mere dream…I would suggest following the rest of us the next time this starship lands, though I sense your bond to that Mandalorian is strong…”

“I’m not leaving!” Though doing your best to stay quiet, your voice wavered loudly.

“Tell me, young one, do you protect those you care about?”

“Y-Yes…”

“And does growing stronger and wiser aid you in that venture?”

“Yes.”

“Then tell me, how have you grown in that Mandalorian’s care?”

Mind racing, your ears started to ring incessantly. “I-.”

“Perhaps you have grown healthier, but you have no control over the living Force, and have no knowledge of lightsaber countermeasures. I am still at a loss as to how you created your own. Without a master’s guidance, the attempt should have left you maimed at the very least.”

Glaring at the light, you sensed it was fixing its gaze upon you with great uncertainty.

“You should be with **_him_** , participating in the Gathering, and starting out your days as a proper Padawan…Too many formalities, but I suppose it is for the best.” It paused. “And they have left the ugly work for me. Young one, I take no joy in your suffering-.”

“Master Jedi, please, I am so confused!”

The voice sighed; a hint of sympathy embedded in it.

“Master Jedi,” fists clenched, you were tempted to call out for him, the Mandalorian. “Why are you here? I’m not a Jedi! I have no master! But now…Now I have a Papa! Or **_Buir_** ; I think that is how it’s said.”

The odd, warm sensation drew closer with the green light, not comforting like your father’s embrace, but smothering, and contrived. Shutting your eyes tight, you hoped it would back off and in a matter of seconds it did, returning to its place across from you.

“Little Padawan.” It christened you against your will. “He is not your father. And that boy is not your brother. You are not his child.”

“Liar…” You snarled viciously.

“Personal bonds can birth immense suffering and agony. Tell me, young one, what have you felt when the Mandalorian and the child are in danger?”  
  


Taking a shaky breath, you struggled to look at the light directly. “Fear. I was afraid.”

“And where has that fear led you?  
  


Tugging on your braid nervously, a sense of utter dread made you weary. “I lost control…But I’m sick, I can’t-.”

“Let go. That is how you protect them, little one. We shall guide you. What ails you can be undone. It is not too late. Oh Force…”

Hot tears poured down your face that had become quite pallid, your teeth clenched together so roughly, you could have sworn they were moments away from shattering.

“Let go.” The light spoke, “I have never been one for following rules, but I am afraid there is no other way. When I next return, where we go, we will go together.”

“No.” Your poor voice cracked.

“Child-.”

“ **NO**... No.” Taking a moment to compose yourself, you tried to stare at the ghost without squinting. “I finally have something, Master Jedi. I have a Papa, I feel **_safe_**! If it’s selfish…I don’t care! I’ll be selfish then! If I can’t keep my family, then I don’t want to be a Jedi!”

It didn’t say anything for a while, and for a second you wondered if the ghost would kill you for such a declaration of defiance against the Order.

“…Very well. Your first lesson soon approaches. Be prepared, Little One.”

As the light faded into nothingness, you fell back on your cot, with one hand, restlessly fiddling with your braid, your fingers finding much to your shock, a bead.

***********

The soft babbling of your little brother woke you slowly, when your vision focused, you could see his tiny hands had seized your braid and brought it to his mouth. Absentmindedly, he covered your new bead in drool.

“Little Brother…” You yawned, “I’m too tired for this.”

After sitting right and picking him up, a soft knock came at your door.

“Come in!” Discreetly you shoved the old Jedi text among the cot sheets, something told you it needed to be hidden for the time being.

Cara entered, giving you the usual pat on the head, then moving to scratch the baby behind the ear. “You kinda slept in, kid. Had to be one hell of a nap.”

Shrugging, you felt more exhausted then when you had first fallen asleep; truly unfair.

“Anyways, there was a change of plans, and we just landed. Metal Head went out to find a place to stay, but he should be back soon.”

Walking out of your quarters, you peered out one of the viewports to see moonlight casting a rather cold glow over miles and miles of sand. Climbing up into the cockpit you could see the Razor Crest had landed close to the outside of a rather hectic borough.

“Where are we?” You called out.

“Tatooine!” Cara yelled from somewhere else on the ship. “You ever been?”

“Yeah…”

You could hear her come from behind, “Well, that doesn’t sound too enthusiastic.”

“It’s where I was dropped off when that kriffing pirate thought he killed me. I was dumped along with the rest of the trash.”

How someone could be so immensely strong yet so mellow was baffling, certainly when Cara’s hand fell on your shoulder, the grip actually reassuring. “Kid, it’s okay. He’s long gone, and I won’t, and your dad won’t let anything happen to you.”

Nodding, your head turned along with your brother’s, both of you sensing the return of your father. The baby gurgled excitedly, waving his arms about in delight. If you had been any younger, you would have bolted out of the ship to go hug him. After that last meeting with the ghostly Master Jedi, finding out that the Mandalorian had left alone was quite alarming. Still restraining yourself, you set the baby down who ran to grab onto the Mandalorian’s leg as he entered from the boarding ramp.

“You’re awake, ad’ika?” He mumbled, scooping the little one up gently. “Oh, you’re all up.”

He informed you all he had found a safe place to stay; after practically abandoning Greef Karga on Bespin, he had made his own way to Tatooine, finding safe haven in an outlying club he partially owned. Though he was certainly disgruntled about being left behind, Greef Karga was more than willing to let the group of you stay in the room above. Tatooine was no more dangerous than any other planet on the outer rim, but even so Cara and Din were quick to usher you and the baby inside your lodging for the night. Despite having rested plenty earlier, you were easily able to find slumber again as soon as your head hit the pillow. Perhaps it was only the second bed you had ever slept in save the cot on the _Crest_. Or maybe it was the soup; you had felt oddly sleepy not long after drinking it. The room being without a proper crib, you hugged you brother loosely to you, unaware of your father and Cara noticing something going on outside.


	34. Enter Stage Left

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din and Cara are gone, leaving you and the baby to fend for yourselves as a new darkness approaches.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens here! Hope you all enjoy! As always, I love feedback and knowing how I can improve to give readers a better experience!

Having slept exceptionally well during your night at the Douz Outpost, your eyes opened lazily taking in the strong Tatooine sunlight streaming through a window. The entire town having been vastly changed since the end of the Empire, many more inhabitants flocked to it, constructing many buildings and questionable businesses.

Glancing down you could see the little one still sound asleep, his hands clutching the soft cloth of your shirt. Turning to the side, the remaining beds were empty, the fresh linens tucked and folded pristinely, as if Din and Cara hadn’t slept in them at all. Somewhat worried, you sat up, examining the rest of the room, finding only fine furnishings and nothing else. You could hear the general hum of the hectic borough, crowds rushing past one another, ships taking off, and speeders running below.

“Cara?” You whispered anxiously, wrapping the baby harness around your torso. “Pa-Buir?”

With no response, it was hard to not let worry consume your thoughts. Extending your mind, you tried to feel about for them. The connection to Din was stronger but not by much; still too distraught at being left alone with the baby, you found nothing.

Sensing your unease, the little one woke, looking rather unkempt; he obviously needed a bath but with your father and his friend missing and no sign of Greef Karga, now was not the time. Despite his little whines, you strapped him into the carrier with haste, slightly surprised he made no attempt to shove you away.

“Little Brother,” You said sternly. “Do you sense him, either of them?” The baby shook his small head much to your dismay. “Oh Force…”

There were a few options, none of which were all that great. You could stay put and wait until the both of them returned, you could explore the club below to look for Greef Karga or explore the streets for any sign of the Mandalorian. It sounded easy, after all, he was clad in Beskar that shone bright enough to blind someone.

_“Search the inside, make sure they aren’t hiding anywhere…But go slow. I hear they’re a runner.”_

Ears perking at the foreign voice, you thankfully realized it was from a few yards off and not right behind the door to the outside. There was no need to reach out into the Force, the malintent was suffocating the moment you could hear the low voice. Quietly running to the nearest window, you could see that you were about one story from the ground; any pursuers would no doubt have a difficult time following you out the window and through the crowds down below. Having the last option made your only one, you slipped out the window, bracing your body as you dropped to the ground, leaving your legs somewhat in a state of shock. They weren’t broken but had certainly been strained upon hitting the ground.

Already feeling the heat of the sun beating down, you were tempted to cast aside your cloak. Though it was a gift, and the only thing you had to mask yourself and the baby. After offering a quick plea to the ancestors that listened, you scampered off into the mass of people, praying no harm would come to your father.

************

The room was in complete disarray, the once neat beds overturned, the fine furniture that Greef probably treasured were cast about without care. While at first Din had panicked upon seeing no sign of the children, though while everything was certainly a mess, there was no sign of a brawl, meaning that Beviin and the baby had left.

“They’re gone…” he signed in relief.

Cara coming up from behind him scanned the room, making sure no one else remained. “We still have no idea who raided the ship last night, metal head. Whoever siphoned your fuel and chased your kids out is still loose.”

“Kriffing hell.” Thinking for a moment, Din chewed on the inside of his cheek.

“If those cloaked assholes were able to get away so fast, I need to sharpen my skills…”

Din’s friend righted as many furnishings as she could with ease when he remembered something of his own making. “I know how we can find them.”

“Oh yeah?” Cara grunted as she flipped over a heavy table.

“I made Beviin an armlet that they’re wearing,” Din said pulling out a small tracker from his belt, “They promised to wear it…There!” And with his creation working smoothly, Din was relieved to see the small red marker moving swiftly, but that moment only lasted so long. For if he remembered this part of Tatooine from the computer navigator correctly, the two of his children were heading right for Douz Outpost’s newest treasure. The promptly infamous combat arena.

*************

You found yourself being squashed between many people, almost all much larger than yourself as you tried to move as far away from your pursuers as possible. After about half an hour of wandering through the Outpost streets, both you and the baby were hopelessly lost, having strayed far from not only those chasing you, but your father and Cara Dune as well.

When it finally seemed like the sea of people would never end, you stumbled out into a queue, all waiting for something quite impatiently. Loud curses in various languages rang out, confused and trying to regain your balance, your tripped directly into someone.

“Kark!”

Picking yourself off of the ground, you thankfully fell of your forearms, leaving your brother unharmed, but certainly annoyed.

“Watch where you’re goin’ kid! Are you a kriffing idiot?!”

The length line kept you from moving, allowing the person you fell upon to grab you by the shoulders. “Watch where you’re goin’ kid! Are you a kriffing idiot?!”

“S-Sorry, sir!” You stammered, trying to wiggle free.

“Sorry doesn’t…Wait a sec…” The aged human squinted, giving you a good look up and down. “Haven’t I seen you before?”

With much more tenderness, he set you down on the ground, dusting off your cloak, seemingly not noticing the little movement coming from underneath.

“No,” You admitted confusedly.

“Hmph.” His scrutinizing eyes were very much uncomfortable to feel upon you, but there was something unmistakably familiar. “You look a lot like someone I know…”

“Sorry, sir.” Glancing around you looked for a way out. “I’m not of anyone around these parts.”

“Well, if you say so. But ya remind me of this crazy old fool I used to know. Strange, wouldn’t have thought he would have ever had a kid, but what the hell do I know?”

“Well, I don’t really care.” You paused. “Do you know where we are?” The man seemed harmless enough, as he was past his prime and looked quite weary from many years on the desert planet.

“I guess since you’re not from here you wouldn’t know.” Moving a bit out of the way, the man gestured skyward, directing your gaze to the gargantuan building that had eluded your attention. The construction vied to touch the heavens, it seemed, casting an unusual shadow across the Douz Outpost, turning it into perhaps and accidental sundial. Though very strange in design, the familiar icon above the main entrance sent your pulse racing, this was another combat arena.   
  


“GATES ARE OPEN!” A loud voice cried from somewhere ahead.

In that instant, the queue flowed forward in a mad rush, forcing you to dash ahead to avoid being trampled. Your connection very strong, you assured your brother you wouldn’t let go, you would keep him safe until your last breath and then some. Still, you could feel his fear, that tiny heart beating furiously; he was begging for some sort of respite. When the line that swarmed the hallway expanded into the much-needed shade of the arena, you found a small hiding spot from under the first set of seating. Throwing your cloak open, you pulled the baby from his carrier, holding him with both hands, but giving room to move. He only offered quiet cries as he scrambled to move closer to you.

“Oh…” You mumbled in recognition. “I’m sorry. You just wanted to see.” Taking him your arms, you bounced him lightly, humming softly. Of course, being bundled up underneath a heavy fabric in the endless heat would be alarming enough but added was the threat of being chased and lost in a massive crowd.

“I’m scared too, little brother.” You whispered. “But we’re gonna be okay.” Your swaying was not only to ease the baby but you as well. Staring off at nothing in particular, a downpour of memories repressed were falling back.

“Hey!”

Head snapping up, your eyes widened.

“No children allowed in here!” Rather quickly, a rather gruff looking Gand emerged from the main hallway.

Not wanting to be cast out from your hiding spot, away from whoever had been hunting you down, you sprinted past him, running as fast as you could spinning past anyone in your way, looking for anywhere to hunker down for a good while. Refusing to enter the arena, an inconspicuous entryway caught your attention. Not looking too far ahead, you pressed on, slipping past the two tired wards at either side of the opening. If you had just spared one look up, you would have noticed the heavy gate, one designed to keep things inside.

When you could no longer hear any footsteps from behind, you slowed down to a tentative walk until the meager lighting from the torches along the walls led you to a well beaten metal door. Far bigger than twenty men lined head to toe, your heart sank. Fear shaking your core, you dared to reach out into the living Force, coming upon something very much alive far too quickly for your liking. Pressing your back against a wall, you stared hard into the darkness, nearly willing whatever was there to stay put.

“Took you long enough to notice! Nice to see young blood around these parts!”

The vile laugh that followed made your stomach churn. Snatching a torch from the wall, you thrust it forward, revealing the amused grin of a severely beaten Devaronian. Part of you felt a sense of sympathy. Clearly, he had seen many rounds, and he had been lucky enough to survive all of them so far. Seeing your fearful expression, the Devaronian lurched forward in a weak attempt to grab at you and the child but was stopped promptly by a thick chain keeping him almost flush against the opposite wall.

“Did…Did the Master send you in to take over for me?” He wheezed, righting himself.

“No.”

Leaning against the wall, the Devaronian’s lax demeanor eased your tension by a fraction.

“Well! It doesn’t look like you have much of a choice now!”

Everything was happening so fast, so intensely, giving you barely a second to process anything. You had barely been away from the Mandalorian for more than a handful of hours and the whole world seemed to have its own personal vendetta against you. What you needed was just a moment, just more than a few moments to take a breath and calm your mind. But you would have no such luck. To your absolute horror, the massive doors were opened rapidly, armored guards throwing them open with immense strength, barely giving you enough time to hide your brother underneath your cloak once again. For a second, they were baffled at your presence, looking from the Devaronian and then back to you. Afraid fighting would reveal the baby’s appearance, you remained frozen. Deciding that a wide eyed child seemed much for lively and keen on staying alive, both of them seized one of your arms, dragging you into the blinding light of the arena, thunderous cheers hammering at your eardrums.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! I'm taking requests as always so please send some! <333  
> The next part is well on the way!


	35. Resolved Tension

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Though you have discovered another ability within the living Force, will it be enough to escape the battle arena without any casualties?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AnGST Hope you enjoy!

Feeling your brother thrash about in his carrier, you prayed no one noticed him struggle to free himself. Holding your arms up, you stumbled awkwardly out into the harsh sunlight, boots kicking up the packed sand of the combat arena. The enormous crowd fell silent for but a second, very perplexed at the sight of a child instead of the other contender back in the ‘competitor’ hold.

Over the announcement system, someone spoke in clear Bocce followed by Galactic Basic. “Looks like we got a fresh new fighter!” The audience broke out into deafening cheers, some individuals throwing articles of clothing into arena. “No collar, so you know what that means! They’re going for the money prize!”

Going for the gladiatorial prize would have been an exceptional feat in of itself on your own, if not out of the realm of possibility. But now you had a family, a father and a brother to think of and protect. Now of course you had grown much healthier and stronger since the Mandalorian had taken you in as his own, but by no means were you ready to be thrown back into the arena again. Besides, when had you last wielded a weapon on your own? Your old spear had been repurposed into your lightsaber, a necessity that your father refused to let you even hold. As you were in the present, confused, holding a baby in the middle of a gladius battle, with an unknown ether coursing through your veins, the possibility of devastation was perhaps inevitable.

As soon as you were sure tears were on their way, a sudden sense of calm crashed into you; he was here. Pushing the hood of your cloak back, your eyes shot up, directed by the startling reflection of the sun to where he stood in absolute shock. Though covered head to toe in that damn Beskar, his stance revealed the gravity of his astonishment.

“Now! All the way from the Dantooine system…A STALKER LIZARD!” As the last word left the announcer’s lips, the gate opposite of you creaked open, from the depth of the hold, something nearly hugging the ground inched forward, tentatively at first, then hastily all at once, revealing something smooth, hungry and vile.

“Oh. Kark.”

There was little time to think out a proper plan, in fact there was no time to think at all. Instinctively, your hands wrapped around the baby defensively, not knowing what else to do, you body remained frozen in place.

“Little B-Brother…” your voice shook heavily. “I-I’m I don’t know what to do!”

The stalker lizard snapped at the guards jabbing their spears towards its torso to antagonize it and direct attention towards you. There was no time to run to where the Mandalorian was, though he himself was struggling to make his way through the packed seating of the colosseum with Cara close behind, and even if you were to sprint as fast as you could, surely the beast would make an interception in no time and make escape that much harder. Just the baby needed to escape, if you could accomplish that much you could go to your grave now knowing you had left the world a better place. Sparing a look down at your brother, his wide eyes stared back at you questioningly. You could sense his own determination and readiness to take on the creature charging at you both. But this was not his battle, you were the elder. It was your responsibility to guard and guide the little one when no one else could. Still unsure of what to do, an abrupt sense of resolve stirred your determination. As the stalker lizard was merely yards away from reaching you, your grip on the baby vanished. Horrified you had dropped the little one on his head, your head whipped about, looking for any sign of him, but finding nothing. Though you could still clearly sense his presence!

“BEVIIN!”

Pain and relief clashed together all at once. Your father’s voice by some miracle reached your ears, drawing your attention to him. Somehow, he had fallen quite suddenly, but there was something in his arms. Something tiny and green. There was no mistaking it. By the grace of the kriffing Force, you had sent your brother back into the secure arms of the Mandalorian. A wide grin spread across your giddy face, thrilled at the newest revelation of your abilities! But the celebration was short lived. Feeling something incredibly solid sideswipe, the tail of the Stalker Lizard crashed into your ribs sending your body flying across the arena, hitting the ground flatly. Dazed from the collision, that foolish smile still graced your face.

Something was clearly broken. Coughing hard you could feel the aching pain sprouting from your side. As much as you wanted to fall to the ground and just scream, you kept running in circles, dodging the furious swiped of the stalker lizard right behind you, its tongue flickering in and out, tracing the edges of its mouth.

“Beviin!”

Stumbling down from the grandstand, the Mandalorian was so close to making his own way into the arena much to your annoyance. He had the kriffing baby! The brief interruption, however, gave the beast enough of an opening to snatch your left leg in its heavy grip, those sharp claws close to digging into your flesh. It was an extremely odd sensation being dangled in the air, swinging side to side at the hands of the Stalker.

“Hold on! I’m coming!” On the other side of the arena you could see the Mandalorian rushing towards you as fast as he could, holding the baby with only **_one_** arm.

“NO!” You screamed, wanting very much to kick him in the head for bringing the baby into the arena for a **_second_** time. “Get AWAY!”

Using your hands, you tried in vain to pry your ankle free from the beast’s grip, only to find the talon wrapped around was so sharp it sliced into the palms of your hands. The lizard much enjoying your erratic movements, snapped its arm back and hurled you forward with all its terrible might, now would have been an excellent time to have a damn Beskar helmet like your father. Unable to slow down, your body smacked harshly against the durasteel wall, then tumbled weakly to the ground.

Face pressed solidly against the sand, you could feel a plethora of broken bones, not to mention areas where the ground had properly scraped up any and all exposed skin. This could have all been over in a matter of minutes if you had the company of your lightsaber…

There his child lay, crumpled and hardly moving, only the subtle rise of their shoulders to indicate slight breath. With the baby securely in one arm, he fired relentlessly at the stalker lizard, his shots only grazing its skin thanks to its sharp and swift movements. If he couldn’t kill the kriffing creature, he would have to somehow get past it, grab Beviin and fly out of the arena.

“Hey! Metal head!” From one side he could see Cara coming from the stands, snatching a spear away from one the guards, pressing the lizard back, its jaws clamped hard against the middle of the durasteel weapon. “Go! Grab the kid!”

Nodding, Din took the opportunity, sprinting as quickly as he could, dodging trash thrown by the enraged audience. Their entertainment could suffer while he rescued his children. When he was within reach, Din slid towards Beviin, scooping them up in his other arm.

“What are you doing!? What about Cara?! You were supposed to run with the baby! I could handle it myself! Why didn’t you run?!” Only half of Din’s mind was processing what the child was saying, the other was trying not to be absolutely furious with them at the same time. The moment he had noticed Beviin in the arena with the child half hidden under their cloak, he almost had a heart attack. What the kark had they been thinking going out into battle? As much as he despised the very thought, Din was sure Beviin was still very much accustomed to their former life alone. Had the allure of battle drawn them in or perhaps it was the prize at the end. Either way, they had the complete audacity to scream at him about endangering the baby when they had brought him into the arena in the first place.

“Are you even **_listening_** to me?!” Their voice was hoarse from crying at the top of their lungs. “Cara is still back there! We gotta help!”

Din shifted his grip on the older child, before leaping up and soaring up into the air, Beviin’s hands beating hard against his Beskar. Cara could take care of herself; Din was entirely sure of that.

“Please!” Beviin begged. “She needs help!” After they let out a low growl, Din could feel their body go slack.

“No!” Din cried. “Beviin stop!”

Turning back, he could see far below, the spears of each guard went flying from their hands, skewering the damn Stalker Lizard from every angle imaginable, the beast writhing and screeching horrifically before a stunned Cara.

Beviin passed out immediately after using their powers to slay the beast in the Douz Outpost combat arena. Once they had made it back to the Razor Crest, Din placed the baby in his bed, and gently laid his eldest down on their cot, noticing by the movement of their limbs and the hollow rattle of their breath, many bones were broken.

“Hey!” Cara’s footsteps were quick and heavy as she ran on board the Crest. “Oh gods. Are…Are they okay?”

“M’fine…” Beviin croaked, catching both adult’s attention. “Ugh…Everything hurts…” For a few moments they coughed violently, spewing droplets of blood about. Din moved to wipe the liquid from their face until Beviin turned their head to the side, a furious glare across their face. “ ** _You_**.”

“Kid-.” Cara started.

“You were supposed to run!” They cried. “I told you to kriffing run!”

Din’s jaw unclenched immediately. “Well what were you doing in the arena in the first place!? What the hell were you thinking going in there with the baby!?”  
  


“I didn’t know where else to hide! There were people after us and I just ran I didn’t know where I was going!” Swiftly, Beviin sat up, getting close to the Mandalorian’s face, their teeth bared. “And you were supposed to run-.”

“And let you die there?!” He retorted. “That thing could have killed you!”

“Really!?” With one hand they shoved him in the shoulder roughly but moved him nowhere. “I coulda handled it if you hadn’t distracted me! I coulda killed it if you gave me my kriffing weapon!”

Their breathing grew more labored and rattled, stressed heavily by Beviin’s fit. Cara pushed herself between her friend and his child, grabbing the kid and pinning their arm to either side as they thrashed about.

His chest felt completely hollowed out as he inched away from Beviin’s cot, slumping against the wall. He could feel the hot stain of tears against his cheeks, flush against the inside of his helmet. After a few moments, his child stilled, curling up against Cara’s form, sparing a glance towards the little one’s bed. By some kriffing miracle, he had fallen asleep amongst the chaos.

“Why won’t you let me fight?”

There was no anger in his child’s eyes; only genuine inquisitiveness to a question Din had no direct answer to, save for saying it was innate instinct. After all, Din had never been known for explaining himself. 

“ ** _Ad’ika.”_** He paused. “You’re right. You should learn though how to fight properly. But first you need to heal.”

Beviin groaned, falling back on their bed with a grimace. “But Papa…”

Din cocked his head to the side, fixing a stare.

“But! Buir! I hate bedrest!”

He sighed. What Din really needed was another night’s sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed! I'm always taking helpful advice, constructive criticisms and requests!


	36. Comatose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din deals with disciplining your reckless and barbaric behavior on his own. And with a moment alone, you find yourself greeted by something familiar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even with finals week here (next week too) I'm just having so many ideas. But lemme know what you think and if you have any requests please submit them in the comments or at my Tumblr @ghoullflower

“Karga needs me, Mando.” Cara sighed, shouldering her pack. “You, we’ve done nothing but raise hell around him and he asked me to help with clean up and running some jackasses out of Nevarro so he can restart business as usual there.”

Taking a deep breath, Din knew he was going to miss his friend terribly the moment he could no longer feel her presence. “I understand. When you can...”

“Don’t worry, metal head. I’ll be back. You can count on it.”

He nodded, offering a hand which Cara shook, leaving Din’s hand feeling strained as she let go.

\--__----__--******--__----__--

“If you keep moving like that, you’ll make it worse.” Returning to the children’s quarters, Din wasn’t surprised to see his eldest trying to sit up despite their battered state. Quickly looking away, Beviin laid back down. Getting to his knees, he did his best to keep his voice still and free from any looming anxiety. “I’m going to need to see where you’re injured. Okay?”

“Okay...”

Under the cover of his helmet, Din could plainly see Beviin stealing a look while he undid their armor. They must be thinking of it as well. When the subject came up, he would have to be strict.

“Kriffing hell…” His gloved hands ghosted several inches over the furiously reddened skin of their torso, sections of it already having darkened significantly. There was hardly an area of skin that hadn’t been heavily bruised. While seeing them in such a state made his heart twist, hopefully the arena incident would serve as a lesson in engaging in reckless behavior. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn his child was a pure adrenaline junkie. Wanting only to know the extent of Beviin’s injuries, Din pressed gently as his could on their ribcage. What came forth from his child was what he could only compare to that of an enraged Aklay, shrill, sudden cry, even if it was followed by a volley of tears.

“I’M SORRY!” Their instant panic threw them into a coughing fit. “PLEASE STOP!” And that he did, watching as Beviin’s hands that had risen to defend themselves had slowly dropped. “I-I’m sorry…”

“I was just checking to see how bad your injuries were…”

“Huh?”

His heart sank. “You didn’t think…ad’ika…I would never want to hurt you.”

Beviin visibly relaxed, settling into their bed once more, despite the bruising he could tell their face was rather flushed. “Oh. But I am sorry.” Pausing, they took a moment to wipe the blood from their cheeks. “I never meant to hurt you; I promise!”

Placing a gloved hand on their forehead, he nodded. “I know. And you didn’t, ad’ika. But don’t think I had forgotten about it either. I am still your father. Respect goes both ways, Beviin.”

“ _Xaz_ , papa.” They muttered.

“And as part of my raising you, I wish for you to learn the language of my people... ‘ _Xaz_ ’, is that a word in your language?”

Beviin winced. “I don’t know. I guess I learned it somewhere.” From behind the both of them, the baby stirred, starting to finally cry. “He’s hungry.”

“How the hell do you know that?”

“Not that I don’t like talking to you, Buir, but if you have any painkillers, that would be great.”

Din nodded his head quickly, a pang of guilt shooting through his heart. He would need a time when they weren’t beaten to high heaven in order to bond more. And Din would protect them in order to ensure that.

\--__----__--******--__----__--

They closeness of it all was so foreign your first response was almost to push him away and defend yourself. But instead you could sense his gentle nature, and you eased into his covered touch. With no bacta on board the Mandalorian produced some regular pain killers and a cup of water. After popping the medicine in your mouth, his hand moved behind your head, lifting it to meet the rim of the small cup. And ever so slowly the liquid washed down the pills.

“Those should kick in soon, ad’ika.” He said softly. “I’ll need to cast parts of your legs and arms as well. We’re low on medical supplies and fuel; I’m going back into town to see what I can buy, alright?”

Eyes going wide, the hot pain blossoming from your chest was what kept you from leaping up. “W-What?” The moment you saw him pick the baby’s carried from where he discarded your clothing, you knew he planned on leaving you on the ship. “There’s still people out there!”

His lack of response only continued to spark the anxiety within you.

“I-I don’t know who they were, but they chased us from the room! That’s how we ended up in the arena!”

“Ah. The ones who siphoned the gas…”

As much as it pained you to admit it, you were terrified at the thought of being left alone while the anonymous individuals who had sought you out were still a mystery.

“We still need the necessities, and you’re too injured to come.” You watched in quiet shock as he slipped the baby neatly into his carrier and left you by your lonesome, closing the door to your quarters behind him.

\--__----__--******--__----__--

There was nothing but the common sounds of the ship to keep you company in the time you had to yourself. The painkillers had done little in easing your physical agony, making movement practically impossible. When even sleep proved evasive, you tested the limits of your many constraints, flexing your muscles slightly to assess the damage for yourself. Much to your disappointment, it didn’t take much to irritate your injuries.

Asa had taught you proper meditation techniques, all of which were not at your current disposal. Even if you were to try and still your mind in order to secure any sort of respite, the constant aching, throbbing, the laboring breaths, and the blood slowly coming from your mouth would surely interfere. In past times, you had resorted to escaping physical reality when food was scarce, and it felt like your stomach would ingest your insides simply to sustain itself. But this was an entirely new world of hurt.

“KARK THIS HURTS!”

“Now that is language unfitting for a young Jedi padawan.”

Your body jerked, startled at the sudden presence of the ghost you had attracted the attention of in the past few weeks. While the new wave of pain eased, you could just shift your gaze to the side to see that familiar green glow, though beside it was something…blue. Not the serene azure of the many Stewjoni seas, but something much more ardent and fiercer, like the scorching underbelly of flame.

“Hey,” You growled lowly, “Are you ever gonna stop popping up like that?”

The green light drew close, the blue following suit.

“Hm, looks like you’ve seen plenty of action since we last met, young one.”

“I don’t even think I ever got _that_ injured…” The second voice was spirited and even kind, but still very much off-putting.

“If you’re just here to mock me, you can both go.” Perhaps if you closed your eyes for a short while, when you next looked, they would both be gone. There was no need for them to remind you about the shame of defeat. Though you doubted any of them would have it within them to even mention it, hell your father hadn’t even been the one to bring up the whole ordeal. Even so, the drive to win to secure what was wanted had been extinguished and replaced with the humiliation of failure. It had always been within your nature to strive to do your best, it coupled handsomely with the need to survive, though after your second detainment on the pirate barge, it had grown into an obsession. As if the buried bloodlust wasn’t enough of a problem to deal with.

“Child. Open your eyes.”

Even though you were in a sour mood, that deep brogue coaxed your eyes open.

“I had planned for our first lesson to be in dueling.” The voice sighed, light turning to meet its blue companion. “That is why I brought along a young…‘friend’.”

“I don’t care.” If only you hadn’t overextended yourself slaying the damn arena monster, then sending the ghost bastards back into the living Force would be possible.

“…As I was saying, you are far too injured to even move. So today we will focus on the mind.”

“Master Jedi, I can barely focus on your voice.” You croaked weakly, feeling the scorching heat of agony at the core of your lungs.

“Master, they’re suffering.” The other voice was bordering on yelling, their own insistence coming through clearly. “If you won’t do something, I’ll try anything.”

The blue light drew closer, hot in its hasty approach. You could almost make out a figure of sorts, human in nature and quite tall. “This will hurt for a few seconds, but then you should feel much better, okay? You’ll be alright. I promise.”  
  


Not wanting to spare energy by speaking further, you simply nodded, bracing yourself. Hovering over you, the light was consuming, wrapping your entire body in its overwhelming warmth which only grew in magnitude. Your mouth opened in shock, but no noise came forth, the sensation too staggering.

“There.” The glow retreated to its position next to its companion, leaving you utterly stunned. “How do you feel?”

“Th-Thanks.” You managed. Flexing your muscles, you could now move them a bit more freely, though staying still was certainly in your best interest.

“Hm. I’m not surprised your body was able to withstand that level of healing, but still, it was still a bit reckless…” The older ghost sighed. “Even so, now you should be able to have a sufficient level of focus for this. But first, tell me this: how much do remember of your time being subjected to the elixir?”

Shrugging, you twisted your thin braid between your fingers. “Not much. It was my second time on the ship. It was short. I don’t remember a whole lot.”

“I suspected as much. Which is why we are going to put you to sleep-.”

“WHAT!”

The blue light drew close once more, seemingly to ease your panic. “It’s alright, trust me. Right, Master?”

“Yes…As I was saying, young padawan, this is a slumber not only for rest, but for looking into the events of the past. I, and others like myself feel like such actions need to be taken in order to ascertain the truth about what is coursing through your veins.”

“So, I’ll be going to the past?” The mere idea was becoming more unsavory with each second.

“No. You will be seeing into the past.” The green being muttered exasperatedly. “My friend and I will help you reach that realm of the mind as I do believe you are far too young to accomplish that on your own in a safe manner.”

“Wow. Thanks.”

“Are you ready?” The elder ghost asked.

“Yes.” Knowing if you dwelled on the issue any longer your compliance would be less certain, your answer was swift. And with the answer secured, the two ghosts drew closer. And slowly, you closed your eyes, quickly leaving behind your consciousness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it! As always I love constructive criticism on how I can improve my writing and the experience I am able to give my readers <3


	37. But You Refused to Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While you are stuck in dreams of your hidden but certain past, Din finds that you will not wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angst. i'm so sorry
> 
> But i hope you enjoy and are staying healthy and safe <3

It was immensely dark, the world completely pitch. You could move without pain in this realm, though for a while it felt as if you had been suddenly submerged in water, limbs moving strangely through the thick environment. Gradually the atmosphere grew thinner and thinner until normality was once again present. Curiously, you found yourself as being entirely lucid; your body having a peculiar transparent quality to it.

“It’s okay. Whatever happens, when you come back, I’ll take care of you.”

That was a voice you remembered, warm, strong but slightly unsure.

A sudden flash illuminated the room with fluorescent light, revealing three figures before you. There you were, scrawny and frightened as ever next to _her_. Young Pallas. The both of you staring in trepidation at the Magnaguard staring ahead. Without speaking, it seized your arm, tearing you away from your companion. Feeling slightly nauseous, you followed close behind, not particularly fond of looking at your younger self. Still watching, you could see yourself collapse, the droid taking no notice, continuing to drag your body along the floor into the ‘med’ room. The Jedi masters must have truly used the bulk of their power sending you into a deep sleep rather than a dream state; no matter how hard you tried to stir your mind, your body failed to wake. Time seemed to drone on for ages as the memories of past torture and horrors flowed free and clear before you. Shutting your eyes and covering your ears was all you could do to drown out those terrible sounds. Standing ready to leave the room, you were stopped short the glint of something catching your eye.

The sound of a door opened followed by the damned voice of your former captor. “This is the first of a series.”

Turning, you saw Cyne enter, carrying a durasteel tray, an array of needles spread across accompanied by a tiny vial of red liquid. The damnable pirate set the tray down amongst his other prized torture devices, taking the vial in one hand.

“Make note, droid, of any of the following effects…That Sith better pay up if the child dies. This is the longest one of my play-things has ever lasted.”

Though completely disgusted by his reference, you were further intrigued by the display in from of you. On a data pad, the Magnaguard waited obediently as Cyne used one of the syringes to empty the vial, then moving to slipping it neatly into the prepared vein in your arm. You knew Cyne had his fun experimenting with your regenerative abilities for the entirety of your time on the barge, primarily your first time, though this was something you had absolutely no recollection of.

In a mixture of interest and fright, you watched the liquid drain from the syringe and into your mangled body. For about a minute nothing happened. Cyne watched you with no particular expression, though a smile spread quickly across his terrible face as each ghastly wound, each bloody mark closed, the flesh and skin mending itself. Nothing too unusual.

Not until your head perked up, eyes like smelted gold, your being alert and shaking vehemently.

***___**___***

His plan hadn’t been perfect. Din realized as much. Though he tried to keep his demeanor nonchalant and calm, his eldest child had still been completely shaken at the mention of being left alone. He had expected Beviin to have some semblance of attachment issues, though swinging the other way, but the bulk of their panic seemed to be around the unknown assailants from earlier. In truth he had forgotten about them completely, but he assumed his growing forgetfulness came with becoming a relatively new father of two. Din had no desire to leave his frightened child behind, but since they had beaten within half an inch of death yet again, he had no choice. They were in desperate need of fuel and medical supplies and waiting any longer to secure them would surely worsen Beviin’s condition.

After refueling the ship, Din patted the baby’s small, slightly hairy head. “It’s all be fine. Yup. It’s gonna be fine.”

Those wide eyes looked up at him rather adoringly much to Din’s joy, but in the back of his mind, he wondered: would he be as defiant and unruly as his sibling when he became older? Perhaps he would, but Din would be there right alongside, ready to save him at any turn. Securing his grip on the remaining bundles of necessities, he walked tiredly up the boarding ramp, and into the main corridor.

The child babbled mindlessly as Din prepped a lineup of bandages and materials for splinting. Most of it would be temporary; he would have to find a proper medic of sorts. With all the bones Beviin had most likely broken, they would all require expert attention or else the bones would mend wrong. Opening the door to their quarters, Din found his eldest child fast asleep, though their brow was furrowed; they were distressed, even in slumber. Cautiously, the Mandalorian cleaned and bandaged their wounds, splinting their broken arm and lower leg. Perhaps it was best they were asleep.

Sighing, he set the baby in his pod, then kneeling next to Beviin’s cot. “Ad’ika.”

No response.

Of course, after such a harrowing ordeal of escaping from the cantina, batting a stalker lizard in the combat arena without any weaponry, and then being thoroughly crushed by the beast was enough to make anyone so utterly exhausted. Feeling his own weariness, Din resigned to sleep for perhaps an hour or two, prepare something to eat and then try to wake them again.

Only a handful of hours passed by before he woke, his mind too busy to remain asleep. After warming some broth and slicing up Jorgan fruit for both the children, he returned to their room, unsurprised to find both still getting some shut eye.

“ _Ner ade_?”

At the presence of his voice, the baby’s eyes fluttered open, hands reaching up for him. Din gently lifted him up and placed him on the floor, the little one immediately running to his sibling’s bed.

“Beviin.” Din tried, but to no avail, their eyes remained tightly closed. “Beviin, **wake up**!”

Nothing.

“Ad’ika, wake up. Please.”

Getting down on their level, Din shook their shoulder as gingerly as possible, being mindful of all their injuries. When he had left, they had been in considerable pain, but still alert. Taking his child’s wrist in his grip, he pressed lightly, and to his relief, found a steady pulse.

“I need you to wake up, Beviin! Kriffing hell! Ad’ika… _ **AD’IKA**_!”

Din’s poor heart raced as he held his child’s limp form, completely at a loss of what to do.

***___**___***

The phase-knife fit in your hand perfectly. From several yards away Cyne watched anxiously as you twirled it in your hand, eyeing down the lone Magnaguard.

The pirate took in a sharp breath before giving you the order. “Dispatch target.”

You stared, wide eyed at your younger self. Those even smaller hands tightening their grip on the weapon before surging forward in the blink of an eye. It was methodical. Playful, even. Your swipes weren’t intended to destroy the droid but mangle it. When the Magnaguard was sufficiently battered, you leapt back, the pitiful piece of machinery suddenly coming apart, each piece sent flying in a different direction, adding to the utter mess on the floor.

There was no more sense of time as you watched the trials presented to your past self. The self that was absolutely greedy for destruction. Such was the case at hand. Cyne shrunk back in horror as you rushed him, unsatisfied with the fell Magnaguard.

“Stop!”

You hadn’t even seen them enter through the corridor behind Cyne, though the figure stood comfortably as if they had been there the entire time.

Your dream-self stopped at the newcomer’s word, body relaxing and reverting to a neutral stance, the phase-knife’s blade retracting. Their cloak fell perfectly, the smooth fabric just barely grazing the durasteel floor, hood falling so low that all vision should have been obstructed, yet even the most basic of their movements were so precise.

“Th-This…you never told me the results would be like this!” Still shaking, Cyne cowered behind the figure, wary of your melancholy gaze. “ ** _That_** is not a child anymore! Look what it has done!” The being turned about, regarding the scene before them, a mix of bloody carnage and droid parts coating the floor.

Making no sound as they approached your dream-self, a gloved hand reached out, gently brushing the stray waves of hair from your blood caked face, trailing down until they had hold of your braid; missing the one bead you now treasured.

“Violent. Bloodthirsty…Unparalleled.” Their grip on your hair tightened. “But still…Any liabilities need to be tempered out.” They turned back, ignoring Cyne’s remarks entirely. “You spoke of regeneration. Hm. There is no need for that if there is nothing to regenerate.”

“W-What?!”

“I had you start with this one because they seem to have the sheer audacity to still be alive. As if they remain in this world simply to spite it…Have the remaining ether removed from their body. This one was just a trial.”

“Just a trial?” Cyne seethed, stealing a glance at you. “This is madness! First this and then you have this monster kill every one of my quarries! How in kriffing hell am I supposed to get the damn shit out of them?!”

With the same softness used earlier, the foreigner slipped the knife out of your grasp. “Imbecile. I know of your sadistic tendencies, pirate. I thought the answer would be simple.”

Such elegance was used as that gloved hand swiftly activated the blade plunging it into your stomach. Cyne looked on in relative horror as your dream-self crumpled to the floor, his employer handing him the weapon.

“Bloodletting.”

Thorough your own mutilated form was a grave enough scene, your golden eyes were fixed on something else. The thrashed body of Pallas, who you had easily slain before the Magnaguard. While you had been listening to every word that had been spoken, there was no way you could purge the screaming pleas from the first friend you had since fleeing Stewjon. But it was enough. Enough to stir your mind and break your slumber that had been anything but restful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! I am always so open to constructive criticism and advice so I can cultivate my writing and provide the best content I possibly can. Also, requests are open in the comments below or at my tumblr @ghoullflower


	38. Youth in Peril

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally awake from your deep sleep, only to greet Din with sudden violence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here he comes! Who? You're gonna have to read.

Help should have been arriving any minute. Anxiously, Din scanned the area around the ship from the windshield of the Razor Crest. There was nothing on the Tatooine horizon, much to Din’s growing dismay. He had called their name until the very sound seemed to lack any decipherable meaning. While knowing they were gravely injured, Din couldn’t help himself and shake their limp body, trying in vain to wake them.

Three days had passed since Beviin was last conscious, leaving him in relative silence save for the baby’s limited babbling. The little one would occasionally look over at his sibling, though with no readable expression. If he was concerned, he showed no signs. Din, however, was one more accident away from fainting. There was only so much he could take from feeling completely deserted to having to feed Beviin broth to keep them from starving and loosing precious weight he fought tooth and nail for them to put on.

He stood staring rather blankly at the thin broth as it heated, feeling rather dizzy due to lack of sleep. But at his son’s rather jarring cry, his senses heightened, and body moved quickly, throwing open the door to their quarters to see the baby crying and squeaking in discomfort. Din’s emotions clashed, alarm and relief coming together in a disastrous clash.

“Beviin?” Against his own will, Din’s voice cracked.

Their now open eyes stared straight at the ceiling, the pupil rather small amid the dark yellow backdrop of their iris. They made no movement, each of their arms lying flat at their sides, body completely still. Wariness kept Din at bay, the odd nature of his eldest child’s state making the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. Though there was a surging instinct to rush them and hug them as tightly as possible, Din refrained.

“It’s okay…you’re safe. No one’s going to attack-.”

His sentence was brutally cut off, body slammed against the door by nothing seemingly visible. Though Din was seeing stars among a backdrop of black, his hand instinctively went to his belt, only to find that his reflexes had been no match for young Beviin. With his body pinned to the durasteel, he could only groggily watch as his child took their foreign stance, activating the blade of their illuminating weapon. There was no hesitation in their next, swift movements, surging forward, blade pulled back and ready. However, thank the kriffing stars, they only made it a few feet. Their face remained still void of all emotion, even as their own form was tossed about the room like unsecured luggage. Still in his crib, Din could just make out the baby, little cheeks tear stained, as he held up one hand. With his eldest distracted, prying themself from the floor, the Mandalorian reached for his blaster setting it to stun. Even now, he couldn’t erase the image from his mind; though it seemed long ago, he could still envision Beviin having been torn to pieces under fire from both he and Cara.

“Ad’ika! Stop!”

He hadn’t expected them to listen in the first place, but it never hurt to try. Apathy washed over poor Din Djarin like the tide leaving him nearly without the will to fight his own child. Lamely, he raised his hand to fire, only to have the blaster torn from his hand with such strength, he could hardly believe it had come from Beviin. That beautiful mauve blade spun expertly through the air, its wielder preparing to plunge it downward. Din had to move. If not for his own goddamn life, then for the kriffing baby watching his sibling try to attack their own father from his bed. He could hear his inner voice bellowing loudly for some action, for his own conviction to steel. So unfocused was the Mandalorian, he hadn’t even noticed the door open, revealing a looming shadow from his position, crumpled on the floor. Head spinning from hitting the hard surface with such force, Din could only remember the familiar sound of blaster fire, followed by something more piercing and ear-shattering.

***___***___***

Very lax, you could feel your body waking, slowly, and then all together pain from your previous misadventures re-discovered. Though something was certainly off. The Jedi master of old had done their best in healing, granting you mended bones; however, the matter of the flesh was different. Agony coursed through muscles as you brought your hands up to your face, tracing the scars until something new greeted your fingertips. Bacta infused fabric had been tightly bound around your eyes, secured heavily by thick bandages. This hadn’t been here prior to your falling asleep. Panic began to rouse in your heart, sending your pulse racing. Remembering the revelations of your slumber only hindered any attempts at comfort made by the rational side of your mind. On the brink of screaming, you made a feeble attempt to sit up, only to have something enormous press down on your bruised torso.

“They’re awake.”

A new presence was made clear far too late for your liking, though sensing no malice, your panic refused to settle. Weakly, your arms grabbed at the one pressing firmly on your clothed chest, trying to push it off.

“Save your strength, sorcerer. You will need it.”

“That’s enough…You’re scaring them.” There was the voice you knew. Warm and sure as the Stewjoni tide. “Beviin…It’s okay. I’m glad you’re awake.” There was an enormous wave of sadness emanating from the Mandalorian. Though you couldn’t see him, you could sense his familiar presence from the doorway. “He won’t hurt you, he’s not dangerous.”

“I will, if this sorcerer tries to kill you again.” The strange voice growled; his voice distorted quite like your Mandalorian’s.

“WHAT?”

“Paz!”

The stranger scoffed, finally removing his hand, when he felt you fall back onto your cot. “You’re too soft with this one, Din Djarin. Too careless. Child, you tried to kill your own father.”

“What…What did I do?” Your words were breathy and small. Each one causing your lungs to burn hot.

Feeling the Mandalorian’s hesitation, you could only conjure the worst possible scenarios in the few seconds he granted you.

“Beviin…You lost control again…I couldn’t wake you up for a few days. And when you finally did, you were gone. I couldn’t stop it…you don’t remember any of it?” He was holding back details. Protecting despite your violent assault against him.

“M-Maybe in a while I will.” In reality, you had no desire to remember. “Stars…I-I’m so…I…” An apology wasn’t nearly enough. How could on ever equate the value of words to that of a living being? Anger flashed but was easily overcome by worry and guilt. Regardless of the searing pain begging you to stop and just be still, your legs moved, ignoring the mind. You didn’t need sight to find him, his sad, yet sturdy presence was enough to feel and follow. That stranger made an attempt to seize you by the arm, though upon touching you, his grip fell away, allowing your feeble body to fall forward onto what you sensed was a very surprised Mandalorian.

“Beviin. You’re hurt.” He was trying so kriffing hard to keep his voice even, to keep his stance firm, and body strong. Your hands gripped his Beskar as tight as possible, refusing to let go. “You need to lay down, Ad’ika.”

In spite of the body, your mind seemed to strengthen in order to compensate. Reaching out into the living Force, you could feel The Mandalorian’s numerous bruises and even a slight fracture, you were willing to bet he failed to notice.

“What are you…Beviin! Stop! Paz! Get them off!” Din cried, realizing why you clung so close.

Massive hands moved under your arms, pulling you from the Mandalorian, up off the ground and back onto your cot as if you weighed no more than the baby.

“Did they hurt you?” The deep voice asked, reeking of overprotectiveness.

You could hear your father grumble to himself, perhaps testing his movements now. “No. And, Beviin. I told you not to use your powers unless I say so. Yesterday was different, but-.”

“But what?” You exhaled. “I hurt you. I hurt you. It’s only right that I heal you. Words aren’t gonna be enough.”

Your father sighed, the sound of his boots against the floor drawing closer. “Just…Listen to me. Please.”

“I will.” No promise was drawn from your lips, but you would do you damn best.

“Hmph. Seems this child has some sense of nobility. Perhaps you haven’t been entirely careless, Din Djarin.”

***___***___***

“Buir…What happened?”

Still reeling from aching all over to feeling suddenly rejuvenated, Din could only mutter nonsense. “Huh?”

“Their eyes.” Paz nodded, still keeping his eyes trained on the child, occasionally glancing over to the sleeping baby. The little one had been so terribly upset, trying to reach their sibling in spite of Din’s guarding arms. He had to rock him for two hours straight before he had calmed enough fall asleep.

“Eyes?” Beviin’s powers might have been healing, but they had left him groggy as hell.

“It hurts.” His eldest winced, hands gingerly prodding the thick fabric. “The stalker lizard didn’t do this.”

“You’re right, little one. I did.” Blunt as ever, Din wondered if he had elicited the reaction he was hoping for.

“Beviin,” Din sighed. “This is Paz Viszla.”

“Buir, I can’t see.”

Cringing, he could only motion for his fellow Mandalorian to speak again. Glancing down at Beviin’s bandaged face, small bits of blood having soaked the dressings lightly.

“I take no joy in your maiming, little one.” Paz grumbled. “Though at first, I was certain you were an enemy, if your father had not been there…Well I am sure our battle would have been…memorable for the victor.”

“You stopped me.” Beviin said quietly. “How?”

Paz shrugged, patting his lighter arsenal pieces quite affectionately. “It was easy really. You tried to use that wizard sword against me. Your first mistake.” He leaned further against the wall, taking in the older child’s limited expression. “It deflected blaster fire easy enough, but I suppose your elders hadn’t instructed you on the weaknesses of your kind.”

Beviin shook their head, “I don’t even know what the kriffing hell **_my kind_** is…” Jaw clenching, he could tell his child was having enough of being regaled to.

“Watch your language, little one.” Paz muttered. “As I was saying, your sword is no match for tradition.” His gigantic hand spun the shining pistol confidently in one hand, slipping it smoothly into its holster.

“They can’t see.” Din growled, wanting to punch him squarely in the jaw. There was a limit to how grateful he could be for his rescue and no limit to how furious he could be at Paz for maiming his child. And both conflicted wonderfully.

“Is…Is that a gun?” Beviin gasped. Hands clenching the fabric of their blanket.

Din placed a hand gently on their forehead, brushing away a few stay hairs. “I’m so sorry, Beviin. While your weapon can deflect blaster fire, it can’t do the same with gunfire. Instead it makes… shrapnel.”

Those small hands reached again for their bandaged eyes, nearly threatening to tear them off. Beviin had easily put together what had happened. If only Din could do the same for the future of his clan. The baby was already an endless mystery, a beacon of hidden power. And then there was Beviin, sick and now blinded. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Always taking requests in the comments or at my tumblr @ghoullflower


	39. New Perspective

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Din finally accepts help, you try to forget his words by adjusting to life without your sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A scoop of angst and a scoop of lowkey fluff!

Night had fallen. You father had told you as much and you believed him. Without your sight and with the bacta dipped bandages tightly bound around your eyes, there was nothing else you could do besides trust and rely on the Mandalorian. The bond between the two of you was strong, your trust nearly unbreakable, though even the baby could sense the poor man’s misgivings about you.

“I’m sorry.” It was barely audible to the common listener, but he could hear well enough; with ears that big it was hard not to. “I don’t know what to do…I don’t want him to leave me, but I don’t deserve you guys. This. I-I almost killed you guys!”

For a while there was nothing. Just the hot tears burning the healing flesh of your eyes, wetting the bloodied fabric of your wrappings. The thought of running at the next opportunity did cross your young mind, there had been nothing but violence, hurt and fear. Even if you did leave, that would only bring the poor Mandalorian lower…

A small tug at your braid sent your body rigid, alarmed at the sudden contact.

“K-Kriffing hell!”

Though he weighed practically as much as a small basket of Jorgan fruit, the weight against you was painful. That little one snuggled comfortably against your chest, letting out a small sigh. His own conviction was nearly palpable.

“…No, I don’t know what I’d do. But it’d be better than almost stabbing him.” You passed to listen to his thoughts. “Well, duh. You’re stronger than me, but a baby shouldn’t have to kick my ass to save his dad!” Another pause. “…Our dad. But, Little Brother? Can you make me a promise?”

***___***___***

“I’m not entirely surprised that child was able to take you down so easily.”

“Glad to see you too.” Din muttered, slipping into his seat, Paz standing over him, casting an unwelcome shadow. “Really, though. I am.”

Paz nodded curtly, leaning against a durasteel wall. “How are they doing? The little ones?”

Din shrugged, letting his head fall against the back of the seat.

“The littlest one is healthy, though he needs more protein in his diet. You want him to grow strong do you not? And the other. The crying child. I took care of their wounds while you were unconscious.”

“How bad is it?”

“I was able to retrieve all the shrapnel from their eyes, the damage is…considerable, but there is a slight chance they may retain some sight.” With one hand, Paz Vizsla tapped the center of his breastplate with one finger. “There’s also something on their chest, it’s not blood or new scar tissue, but it’s almost glowing did you know of this?”

“They’re sick…and I don’t know what the hell to do.” Din clenched his jaw so tightly, his teeth threatened to crack. “If I had never met them…perhaps they would never have gotten this kriffing bad.”

For a few moments, the silence was thick as blood, neither Mandalorian uttering a word. Seeing Paz after getting his ass handed to him had been a bit unwelcome, Din was sure he would mock him endlessly. Instead, the massive unit of a man helped him to his quarters after defeating Beviin in battle. Too weak to do anything, Din could only lay in his bed, listening to Paz put his little son to rest. He was thoroughly novice, the crying and swearing proved as much. As much as it pained Din to admit it, Paz Vizsla was more than just a one-man army. Initially he had worried greatly that giant would only worsen Beviin’s condition, given Paz’s enormity and Beviin being only a child. Though, upon looking over his eldest, each bandage, each compress ad been neatly, gently secured.

“You’re going to rest.” Paz finally decided.

Din shook his head, “I have them to worry about and some bastards hunting us…well, thanks for the help. If-.”

Paz’s massive hand pulled Din to his feet without any sign of strain. “I _said_ you are going to rest. I will take care of your children for the time being. I will relocate us to somewhere safe, but you need to take care of yourself, Din Djarin.”

“I’m fine. This is my clan. I don’t need any more of your help.”

“Do you really believe that being less dependent on others is strength? There is no need to do everything on your own. And if you won’t rest for yourself, rest for your two children who need you more with every day.”

Perhaps it was those absolutely infuriating words. Or maybe it was Paz’s overwhelming shadow. Either way Din relented, retreating to his quarters.

***___***___***

Hours had passed since you had opened the door to your room just slightly in order to eavesdrop on the two men in the cockpit. It took a few moments to find a way to walk comfortably without being in too much pain, not to mention finding an actual way to the door in the first place. Sure, it was nighttime, but with your eyes currently indisposed, darkness remained no matter the time. After about half an hour of orienting yourself, your hands found the door and were able to force it open a few inches. Both men were relatively loud, though your father’s own voice was certainly higher than the other man’s. His was far deeper, though it had the potential to be commanding and perhaps frightening, there was a sweet quality to it, like warm honey.

“Did you know any of this?” Paz Vizsla asked flatly.

“They’re sick…And I don’t know what the hell to do.” You could hear the frustration clear in the Mandalorian’s voice. “If I had never met them…”

Startled, you slipped to the floor falling flat on your back, scrambling to right yourself, you shut the door, fumbling about to find your bed once more. It wasn’t true. It couldn’t be true. You must have misheard or something. But then again, you could feel his emotions clearly without even having to properly seek them out.

You could tell morning had fully come when you could hear the baby gurgling in his bed, moving around restlessly. Slipping from your cot, you kept your hands in front, feeling about until they touched the cool metal of his crib. Gingerly, you found his form among the thick blankets, pulling him into your arms. Sliding down to the floor you rocked him gently, humming an old soldiers’ song you had heard many a time in your travels across the galaxy.

“You’re both up. Good.” The door slid open quickly.

“…You…You’re Paz Vizsla.” You said quietly, your grip on the baby tightening, when he let out a small grunt, you eased.

“Hm. That I am. Set the baby down and follow my voice.” He ordered.

The baby seemed to have no misgivings, so you set him down, hearing his tiny feet shuffle against the floor.

“Where’s-.”

“Your father is resting for now. I will be taking care of you and your brother.”

Hearing him pick up the child, something in your heart twitched. Still, your little brother made no noise and you sensed no qualms, so you left well enough alone.

“Alright. Stand up and do as I say.” His tone was so formal, there was no way this was the same man from last night.

You did as he said, walking forward with your arm out, only to have Paz Vizsla stop you immediately.

“No. Arms at your sides.”

Clenching your fists, you obeyed, though albeit annoyedly.

“Good. Now take three steps forward…There’s armor on the floor, take a large step over.”

It was only your own room. At worst you would fall on your face, even so, that didn’t stop your anxiety from rising considerably.

“Good. Now take five more steps forwards and you’ll be out of your room.”

Relived this strange exercise would be over, you rushed just a bit too much, running straight into something hard and cool. Stunned you hit the floor, irritating the countless bruises over your body. From up above you could hear the baby giggle. A hand ten times the size of any normal human’s pulled you up from the ground and flush against cold armor, after Paz Vizsla moved somewhere, he placed you gently, sitting against a wall. Hearing the man wander about the cabin, you wondered what he could possibly be doing. Reaching out, you asked the little one, your curiosity currently limited, only to have him tell you to relax. Irritated, you made peace with your hearing, as heavy footsteps approached.

“I’m going to guide your hands, alright?” There it was. That peculiar softness.

Taking one hand in his, he slipped a small plate into it.

“Eat up, you shall need your strength. We have a ways to travel.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Any comments and constructive criticism are so welcome! Stay healthy and safe <3


	40. The Night Visitor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mandalorian Paz Vizsla does his best to take care of you and your brother while Din rests. Still, when the two ghosts of old Jedi knights pay you a visit, they bring along a rather strange companion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is so late! I've been swamped with a summer class, finding work and other WIPs. Hope you enjoy! As always I LOVE reading comments <333

“Child, tell me something.” Paz sighed, making sure the Razor Crest was flying steady. “What do you know of those hunting you.”

Beviin sighed, relaxing into the co-pilot’s seat. “I could hear them before I could see them. Not with my ears, actually, but uh, with…my mind.”

“Your sorcery?”

Seemingly annoyed, the eldest child puffed their cheeks out before taking a deep breath. “I guess you could call it that, yeah.”

“So then, they are like yourself, they themselves are sorcerers as well?” Paz could feel himself groan inwardly. Physical fighting was almost too easy, though if magic was going to be involved, even he wasn’t sure how well he could stand against it.

“I guess they are now that you mention it…ah kark…”

“Language.” He sighed

“‘Language’”, Beviin mocked, sticking out their tongue.

“Hey!”

“I’m still grateful you stopped me from hurting anyone…more, but you still killed my eyesight. I’m kinda mad about y’know.”

Switching on auto-pilot Paz Vizsla moved to look at them. “I would expect as much. Speaking of which, this should be the last of your bacta treatments. I don’t think there’s anything else that can be done for them I’m afraid.”

The child nodded. “So…”

“So, it’s time to take the bandages off, young one. You need to brace yourself for the possibility you may not ever see or perhaps see normally ever again.” He paused, watching Beviin shiver ever so slightly. “Are you ready?”

“Yes. You can take them off.”

Their head looked much smaller than it actually was against his own massive hands; gingerly he tugged on the wrappings, letting the bacta soaked gauze fall away.

“How…How does it look?” Their voice asked weakly.

In all honesty it could have been worse, much, much worse. However, that didn’t mean it looked entirely well. The skin around the eyes were healed, but the eye itself was still slightly red with an odd glaze over both of them

“The important question is if you can see.” Paz stated, dodging the question completely. While young Beviin seemed to be impartial to cosmetic looks, he was sure they would not be pleased with the healing process in its entirety.

They blinked a few times, scrunching their face a bit. “I mean, kind of? It’s super dark and…kriffing hell. I knew you were big, but…”

Paz Vizsla couldn’t help but smirk underneath his helmet. “So, you can?”

Beviin shrugged, “Just general shapes and colors and there’s not much light, but I guess it’s better than nothing at all.”

“Hm. Wise thinking, young one. We still have a way to go before we reach our next destination, you should get some more rest before then.”

“Aw, do I have to Sir Vizsla?” They whined, “I just opened my eyes and not I gotta go to bed?”

“Yes, you must.” He said, ushering him to their small quarters where the baby was already fast asleep.

“Why!?”

“Because I said so.”

***___***___***

Though your vision was restored somewhat you had trouble finding your bed, stumbling about like a newborn Nexu. This would certainly take some getting used to, but it still was much better than being completely blind.

“Little brother,” you whispered once you had found yourself under the soft covers of your cot. “Are you still awake?”

He was, though mostly because he heard you complaining to Paz quite loudly from outside.

“I can see again! Now I won’t be so much of a kriffing liability for you and Papa. I have to gain back his trust. I just have to. Even…Even if he regrets me by now.”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you pondered the past few hours.

“I’m glad you weren’t fully planning on sleeping, young padawan.”

Startled, you smacked your head soundly against the wall of your room, making your head spin.

“I swear to kriffing hell!” You hissed, rubbing the newly sore spot. “If you keep surprising me like that I-I’ll tell Papa about you!”

Those familiar green and blue auras circled around before settling right in front of you.

“Well, when it comes to being an apparition of sorts, the element of surprise is going to be present whether it is wanted or not.” The green being admitted.

“Well just cause’ you’re a ghost doesn’t give you permission to be rude…” You grumbled, bringing the blanket tighter around you.

Even with your blurred vision you could see the intensity of the blue aura come far too close. “What the hell happened to your eyes? Who did this to you? Master, we should go get _him_ , please!”

Startled by the younger spirit’s sudden outburst, you looked to his companion with worried eyes.

“We will go get him in a bit, but first, you need to calm yourself, you’re scaring the poor child.” The elder said tiredly.

“Why are you here, isn’t it a little late for a lesson?” You asked quietly. In all honesty the moment you realized you couldn’t see, the continuation of your Jedi training seemed impossible. How in kriffing hell were you supposed to wield a lightsaber or use the Force without being able to see a damn thing? Thank the stars, and Paz, that he had been able to remove all the shrapnel from your eyes and oversaw the healing process expertly.

The green illumination moved back. “Well we were going to start lessons on various lightsaber forms, but seeing as you are somewhat…impaired, that will have to wait for now.”

“So why come?” Your lip trembled.

“Because, while having your eyes certainly makes training easier, it does not make it impossible, young one. Life is never easy as a Jedi.” The green light drew closer, it was comforting as it enveloped you. “We have much to do but first, there’s someone who wishes to see you?”

“See me?” Raising an eyebrow, you pulled away from the ghost of the Jedi master.

That deep laugh quelled any growing anxiety, slowing the quick beating of your heart. Both apparitions shifted to the side to reveal a more faded blue light. It didn’t have the raw ferocity of the younger master; it carried a subtle strength. The luster grew brighter as it floated towards you, almost in fear. Glancing back at the two masters watching, you wished terribly that they had faces to read.

“Who…Who is this? Another Jedi?”

Both remained completely silent, letting the interaction unfold naturally. Unsure of what to do, you let your eyes close, you couldn’t see more than the lights anyway. Strangely enough you felt something cold ghost over the scarred skin of your cheek. The sensation continued, hesitantly exploring the features of your face, eventually grabbing awkwardly at your lengthy braid, smoothing over the single bead woven in. Every muscle in your body started to tremble, as you felt someone reaching out into the living Force.

“Who are you?”

And when those three words left the edge of your lips, the feeling disappeared at once, leaving a part of you somewhat empty.

“It’s okay. I don’t think he wants to talk much right now. Besides, you have much to learn about focus and meditation.”

***___***___***

The following morning the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla woke you early to start your first proper lesson in your adopted home language. He was kind enough to guide you out of your room, having a bowl of food hot and ready for both you and your little brother.

“Did you sleep last night?” His deep voice asked you from the pilot’s seat.

“A little.” Your mind was scattered, half on last night’s lessons, and the other on your brother who was picking at the leftovers in your bowl. Either his appetite was growing or yours was waning. Perhaps the latter.

“You’ve been crying.” He said simply, turning in his chair.

Gingerly, you patted your eyelids, finding them slightly puffy from the night before. The two Jedi masters had never introduced you to their other friend. In fact, they dismissed it completely, moving on with lectures on ancient techniques. But as soon as they departed, the flood gates opened, void of any sobbing, tears just continued to stream down your face, dampening your tunic.

“It’s nothing.” You insisted, offering a half-hearted smile.

Paz Viszla grunted in response, “Sure it is. Well, if you’re not going to tell me, then we shall star your first lesson in Mando’a. Are you ready?”

Conviction rising, you nodded fervently.

“Alright. First things first. That baby. He is your brother. You are to call him _vod_. Repeat after me: _Vod_.”

“V…Vood?” The sound was uncomfortable in your mouth, so deviant from Galactic basic, not to mention your mother tongue…But this had to be done, not only for yourself, but for your father. His words of distaste for you were kept at bay in the back of your mind. Perhaps this would be part of the way.


	41. Discussions of Honor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions develop somewhat between Paz Vizsla and Din Djarin. And you are in for quite the shock when he reveals where your next destination is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Stay safe, You are loved. Keep fighting. Keep resisting.

“Excellent job, young one!” Paz’s praise was as addicting as honey candy. “Now put it all together.”

Clearing your throat, you straightened your back, fixing your poor posture. “Ibic cuyir Ner vod. Vi cuyir aliit.” 

It was still very strange, the vowels sounding just a bit off, but Paz Vizsla was proud none the less.

“Practice is important in honing any skill. Perfection never comes in one try. Remember that-Oh. Good morning.” 

Turning around from your place on the floor of the ship, you were surprised to see your father had finally emerged from his quarters. The temptation to look over his thoughts was certainly there, but your kept yourself in line, and turned to face your teacher once more. With the Mandalorian having his doubts, you had to double your efforts in proving yourself to him. 

“We were just having a lesson in Mando’a, Din Djarin.” Paz said simply, perhaps testing the waters. 

“Is that right?” You could feel his eyes on you, his emotions completely unknown. You nodded, keeping your attention on the baby playing with the bead in your hair. “Well, Beviin? Are you going to share what you’ve learned?”

“I…I- Yes.” Wrapping your arms around the tiny one, ignoring his little whines and complaints. “I-Ibic…Ibic c..cuy..cuyïr…I…I’m sorry…I-I…”

“They have only just started,” Paz interrupted, saving you from further massacring the language. The heat started to rise to your face, showing color in your cheeks. “You have quite the dedicated child, Din Djarin. You should be… proud.”

Your ears perked up, waiting for his answer seemed to take millennia. 

“Thank you for taking care of them.” Came Din’s even voice. 

He slipped into the co-pilot’s chair; clearly annoyed Paz Vizsla was currently occupying what was usually his seat. The both of them clearly had a complicated past, and they were only words away from beating the living daylights out of each other, that much you could sense without even having to look. Your brother started babbling out loud, nonsense to the ignorant individual, but you could understand perfectly. 

“I’m not being weird,” You whispered, “I’m fine…”

Din looked back towards the two of you, “Did he say something? Did he speak?”

Scratching the part on the baby’s ear he could never reach, you sighed, “No. He can’t yet, I think. But we can…communicate. By thought.” Daring to look up, you were half relieved all you could see was the sheen of his armor. Even if he were to ever take off his helmet, you would never be able to distinguish any of his features. How strange to yet again never know the face of your father. 

“Hm. We’ll talk more about this later, Beviin.” He mused, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Nodding, you picked the little one up and went back to your quarters to put him down for his first nap. 

***___***___***

“They have been acting strangely lately.” Paz mentioned casually, leaning back in Din’s chair. 

“You blinded them almost completely, I think their worry is certainly warranted.” Din growled. 

“I should think not.” Confident, the giant of a man regarded Din Djarin with slight distaste. “I could see their whole body tense when you entered.”

“Are you suggesting my child is afraid of me?”

“What I’m suggesting is that there is something wrong and needs to be addressed. If you had taken care of yourself in the first place, perhaps you would have noticed.” 

“And now going so far as to judge my role and work as a father?!” Against his better judgement, Din lurched forward, not exactly to start a fight but as a sign of immovability. 

However, Paz Vizsla immediately took this as a sign of blatant aggression, following Din in suit, except seizing the other Mandalorian’s arm in his hand and flipping him up in the air and down firmly on the floor of the Razor Crest. For a few moments Din was unable to take in any air, the wind having been properly knocked out of him. The door to the children’s quarters came flying open, Beviin looking quite irritated. 

“Kam Aras j'us Abid Isarian!? I just put the baby down to sleep!”

Both turned to see the older child’s strange, but nevertheless pissed off expression 

“Perhaps if this man was more honorable-.” Paz started, but was cut off by a swift jab to his lower abdomen. Blinded by his own frustration, Din momentarily forgot that his current opponent was covered head to toe in Beskar as well, his hand hitting it soundly. Grunting in pain he tried to slip out from under Paz’s grip, unfortunately the other man’s sheer mass keeping him from doing so effectively. Instead, Din Djarin opened himself up even more, allowing Paz to pin him against the wall of the cockpit, pressing his forearm heavily against Din’s chest. 

“Stop it! Stop it right now both of you!!!” Sprinting forward, Beviin tried their best to pull Paz off of him, missing reaching for the larger Mandalorian several times. Eventually they were able to grab onto his leg and pulled with what Din guessed was all their might, but it had no impact. 

“Child, step away!” He barked. “This isn’t your problem to interfere with!”

Struggling to breathe right, Din could only watch as Beviin felt the area around Paz Vizsla’s leg that lacked armor. He could see the edge of their mouth turn up in a smile. 

“Don’t tell me what to kriffing do!” They cried before biting down as hard as they could. The bite elicited a strange grunt from Paz as he dropped Din immediately. 

Beviin withdrew their teeth and shifted around, putting themselves between the both of them. “Are you okay, Buir?” They asked softly, pulling him away a little bit. 

“I-I’m fine.” He managed, standing once more. “Are-Are you okay?”

Din took his child’s ace in his hands; they made no attempt to move away and remained calm within his touch. 

“Missing something?” Paz asked holding up something small in his gloved hand that he had pried from the fresh bite wound in his leg. 

Both turned, but only Din could see the small tooth in his grasp. Turning back to his young one, he prodded their mouth open to see that in fact, their tooth had come loose, but there was no apparent sign of injury anywhere else. 

“It s’okay,” Beviin smiled, “It should grow back in a day or two.”

Giving a sigh of relief, he could only pull their small frame, thankful for once they were somewhat okay. 

“Sorry, Sir Vizsla.” Beviin said, pulling away from Din reluctantly. “Buir? Can-Can I?”

Though they didn’t say their request by name, he immediately knew what they were asking of him. Permission. If he was being completely honest, fear coursed through his hear, albeit swiftly. At any moment they cold snap once more, becoming violently savage. They must have somehow sensed his apprehension, excusing themselves to find the bacta soaked bandages in storage. 

“I’m sorry my child…bit you.”

That kriffing bastard relaxed his body, lacing his fingers together and placing them behind his head comfortably. “Well I did get a bit…hot headed, though how much of that was your fault is debatable. But that child loves you, hell they know I was able to best them once and still attacked me in order to defend you.”

Before Din could formulate some response, his eldest returned with the firs aid kit, handing it gingerly to Paz. 

“I am sorry, sir. But you did attack my father.” 

“That makes both of us, young one.” 

Din reached out to Beviin only to have them strangely ignore him and seat themselves in the co-pilot chair. 

“If I may ask,” they started, “But where are we headed. I feel as though we’re leaving the outer rim territory.”

“What? Where the hell are, we headed then?” Din did his best to sound too worried. While the New Republic territory did have the benefit of being somewhat safer, that was only because of legality, something of which Din had no habit of following. 

“The safest territory I could find. No need to sound so panicked, Din Djarin. You need to set a strong example for the children.”

“I-.”

“As I was saying…Yes, Child. We are leaving the outer rim territories. But there is no need to stir your anxieties. Where we are going should be safe for a good while. Whoever is following you will be too intimidate by the New Republic presence. Stewjon is quite safe.”

Beviin made a peculiar noise, something between a shriek and a squeak. “W-WHAT?!”


	42. Familiar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Din suffers from a sudden panic attack, going suddenly to find you for help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! I just had to do so much lately but I'll be more regular now! Hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> ACAB

Slipping out of your cot, your bare feet touched the cold durasteel floor, feeling around for your cloth shoes. It took a few moments, but you found and secured the straps tightly.

“Are they awake, Little Brother?” You whispered, having pulled the baby into your innocent plot.

Thank the stars he reported both Mandalorians were fast asleep, Paz in the cockpit and Din in his quarters. After your brother wished you luck and safety, by hand you slipped open the door, slipping out of your room. Each step was purposeful and silent, moving down to the second level of the Crest and through a small hatch. It had been the result of some dogfight the Mandalorian had gotten himself into. Whoever had patched the ship up had left an important layer loose.

Paz had informed you and the baby the ship would land on Stewjon, but it would be better to sleep for the night before going out to find resources, rest, and perhaps even train. Though for you the wait had become too much; there was no way in hell you would be able to sleep through the night knowing that you were back on your home planet after maybe years of exile. How long had it been exactly? In truth you had no idea, perhaps you should have been keeping track. Your mother had once told you; your species was different. Reminiscent of a human, but not exactly alike. While the other children in your village started to gain height, you remained the same. How much older would you old friends be now?

The Mandalorian Paz Vizsla had landed the Razor Crest (Much to Din’s distaste) on a low plain, far out from the nearest town as to not draw any unwanted attention. Though you had no idea which prefecture you were currently in, just going out now would be enough. Jumping from the small edge you made sure to place back the several layers of durasteel, taking in a deep breath becoming lost in the memory of it all. The world was still dark, a few moons dimly lighting the night, reflecting coldly off the Stewjoni ocean. Falling to your knees you took fistfuls of long, green grass in your hands, in utter awe of its soft texture. Still getting used to your limited vision, was irksome, so for now you had to rely heavily upon the rest of your senses. That gentle wind that ruffled your hair whisked back the tears falling from the edge of your cheeks.

With the wind at your back, you took off, sprinting from the ship’s spot on the grassy plain to where it met the fine sand of the beach. Not really caring anymore, you shucked your shoes, leaving them in the dunes. The salty taste of the ocean was on your tongue, a telling sign you were running in the right direction. Back on Tatooine, the sand was rough, constantly slipping into your shoes and scratching against your skin. But here, on your home planet, with sand as delicate as liquid silk, you felt as if you could revel in it for hours on end. Though, with the ocean just seconds away, such desires, you would have to wait. Silt kicking up in your wake finally gave way to the water. With one massive leap, your body fell into the warmth of the sea, enveloped completely. Head breaching the surface, you let yourself float lazily on the surface, staring up at the blurred vision of the moons gracing the heavens. An hour passed, and you stayed like that, buoyant on the sea as it shifted just slightly.

“…!” From off in the distance you could hear someone yelling.

For a moment your throat clenched, thinking someone had noticed you and the Razor Crest, but after a second, you sensed your guardian’s presence. With your ethereal moment squandered you simply treaded water, not wanting to swim back to shore knowing a stern lecture or a few damning words awaited you. But what more could he say, what could hurt more than wishing your paths had never crossed? Even so, you half-heartedly made your way to the shore, moving easily through the surf until your feet met sand once more. You could see him somewhat, a tall, blurry figure of an armored man coming at you rather quickly. All at once, dread consumed you.

***___***___***___***

The shaking took up several minutes before it subsided. Din Djarin took a few deep breaths in a feeble effort to calm his body and mind in unison. Placing his calloused hands over his bare face, he could feel the sweat that had caked on during his night terror. Perhaps it was best if the baby stayed with his sibling in their room for the time being. If either of the little ones were to see him in such a state of disarray, Din doubted he would be able to cope. Checking his datapad, he could tell two hours had gone by, but how much of that had been delusion, Din was unsure, but he was going to take what he could get.

While panic and fear were momentarily by the wayside, Din could feel his chest grow heavy, strained and compressed; each breath was almost labored, but with no current injury, there was nothing to heal, nothing to cure. Beviin. They could do something, but at what kriffing cost? The room spun, vision becoming warped and twisted. Swearing up a proper storm, Din Djarin donned his armor, slipping out of his quarters, immediately heading for the children’s room.

Thank the kriffing stars Paz stayed asleep, the bastard out cold. The door to their room shot open, the Mandalorian stumbling inside. In his little pod the baby blinked a few times, clearly disturbed by this sudden intrusion. Next to him was Beviin’s empty cot, blanket folded neatly, and shoes gone. Panic was quick to return, thrusting Din into action. Rushing to the main hatch, Din could see a small shadow of a person in the dark ocean water. There.

“Beviin!” Din called out, his body beginning to feel lighter. “Beviin!”

The figure came closer and closer, a look a tense fear written on their young face.

“Beviin…Help.” Din couldn’t help but fall forward.

His child materialized to his side, catching him awkwardly, and softening his fall to the ground. The shaking took over once again, rendering Din unable to vocalize.

“Buir?!”

The Mandalorian could feel two hands at his chest plate, pressing as hard as they could.

“You’re gonna be okay!” Beviin assured him desperately. “I-I’m gonna heal you! It’s just-just gotta work!” Din watched their worried features twist into frustration. “Come ON!”

Still clutching him fiercely, his child pressed their forehead to his chest. “I’m so sorry, Buir! I d-don’t know what to do! It’s not working!”

Their forlorn pleas for forgiveness continued on, but Din’s chest began to grow lax, his trembling and pain vanishing. To test this sudden respite, he carefully inhaled and exhaled, finding no further aches.

“I…I think M’ okay…”

Beviin looked at him apprehensively, as if he were doubting his very words.

“Are you sure?” Their voice was almost non-existence.

He nodded, sitting upright. Immediately, Beviin retracted from their touch on him, gaze falling away, arms clutching themself.

“Ad’ika?” Din questioned.

They sighed. “Aren’t you gonna ask me what I’m doing out at this time?”

Actually, the thought had never crossed his mind. “Well I am now. You should be sleeping.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I-I’ll go back to my quarters…”

“Beviin, wait!” The Mandalorian hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but it still didn’t fail to stun his child. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know…”

“Ad’ika, please. You’ve been avoiding me lately. Talk to me please.”

Taking their braid in hand, they twisted it gaze fixed on it, refusing to look at Din completely.

“Is it because I didn’t see you for a few days? I-I’m sorry, that was self-.”

“No! Kark, no!” Beviin groaned, shaking water from their hair. “No. It’s not that.”

“Then what.”

Their head swayed oddly from side to side, eyes shifting. In the darkness of night, Din guessed they were having a hell of a time trying to see. Finally, Beviin seemed to find Din’s helmet, focusing intensely.

“I heard you the other day. With the other.” Pausing they bit down on the inside of their cheek. “you told him that you wished we never met.”

“Wh-What?” Din jerked awkwardly. “No! Kriffing hell! What the hell did I say?”

While he wracked his brain for the memory, Beviin continued on. “I don’t blame you actually. I mean I did try to kill you and more than once. I could have hurt you and the baby…oh Maker…”

“That’s not what I meant!” Finally recalling, Din suddenly gripped his child’s shoulders. “I was just- I wondered if you would have been safer if we hadn’t crossed paths. That was it!”

Beviin’s eyes widened, their face fell upon realizing their mistake. “Oh kark…”

“And, you were eavesdropping?”

“Can you blame me?” They sighed, “You Mandalorians are loud as all hell.”

Relieved the problem was extremely finite and resolved, Beviin on the other hand seemed simply distraught.

“What’s wrong, Ad’ika?” With renewed confidence, Din tried probing further.

His child fell back on the sand, gripping the sediment in their hands. “I don’t understand. And, usually M’okay with that.” Turning, their gaze fixed on him once more. “I’ve hurt you, so much. You didn’t have to bring me along. I feel so selfish! You’ve never had to forgive me or feed me or look at me! Or even think of me!”

Reaching out with one hand, Din waited for them, not wanting to force touch once more. Beviin tentatively finally taking Din’s hand, allowing him to draw them close.

“I’ve never had to. But I’ve wanted to.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“Me neither.” The Mandalorian admitted.

Looking out at the sea, Din wished for a moment to feel the sensation of it against his skin. To not have to uphold the honor of Mandalore, welded together within his Beskar.

“It’s just like I remembered it.” His child said wistfully.

“Oh,” Din realized. “This is your home. I’d almost forgotten. You should rest though before we venture out tomorrow.”

“I will,” Beviin relented, far too quickly for Din’s liking. “But only if you do.”

“Ad’ika, I already have.”

“I won’t be able to unless you do too.” They tapped the visor of his helmet. “I can’t see you, but I can tell you’re tired.”

“Fine.”

The child smiled, relishing in their minor victory. Though if Din were to try to sleep again, it could bring another terror, but it would be worth it if it would give respite to his ad’ika. Ruffling their hair, the Mandalorian realized the length to which he would go for the baby, for Beviin.

“Can we stay here for a bit longer?” They asked. “I kinda just wanna sit. Just for a little bit.”

“Why?”

“I’d just like to be here next to you…If that’s okay.”

“Would you like another story?”

That sparkle illuminated the young one’s face, spreading a wide smile. A smile Din desired to protect. “Yes!”


	43. Lost Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You find yourself visiting a familiar village from your past and someone who used to be a friend, though something intense disrupts your senses.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so sorry for the delay! I've just been suuuper depressed but I'm in a good writing groove now so that's good at least!

Your Mandalorian was lightly asleep when you woke, rising along with the Stewjoni sun. Rather easily, you slipped out of his grip, shaking off sand that had stuck to your skin. Glancing back at the ship it seemed Paz Vizsla and your baby brother were still resting as well. Feeling your stomach twist and turn with hunger, you decided to go and catch yourself some breakfast. Diving into the water, your body assimilated itself to the new environment; you had about half an hour before you would need to come up for air. 

The strain on your eyes was significant, though it wasn’t that much worse than the quality on land. It didn’t take long for you to snatch a poor fish with one hand and head back to the surface in record time. From the beach you could hear the Mandalorian call your name, perhaps waving for you to come back. Holding the fish in between your sharp teeth, you dove under swiftly swimming back to your father. 

“What the hell do you have?”

Glancing down at the fish you couldn’t really tell, so taste was in order. Taking a small bite, you pondered for a moment.

“Hm, I think it’s just a Stewjoni sea bass.” Taking another bite, memories came back of fetching your own meals when your mother was more often than not unavailable. 

You could feel Mando’s eyes son you in mild worry as he led you by hand back to the crest, but as your stomach was being filled, you paid it no mind. 

***___***___***

“There’s a small town about a mile from here.” Din informed his group. Scrolling through his datapad, the nearby settlement seemed benign enough. “Aritia…My child, have you heard of that prefecture?”

From their seat on the floor with the baby in their lap, his eldest was occupied feeding the littlest pieces of the fish they had snatched from the sea. Willing to trust them further, Din had even gone so far as to give them a small knife as to properly eat the meat and not to keep on tearing it apart with their teeth. 

“Yeah actually!” Their ears perked up as they smoothly filleted the meat of the bass. “I used to travel there on weekends to help the fishermen out.”

Din watched as Beviin handed the little one another bit of food which he seized with his little claws and shoved it promptly in his mouth. 

“So, a fishing village.” Paz continued. “Would you know the way from where we are now?”

Beviin paused for a moment before nodding. “Well, not exactly…But I remember the smell so I can follow that! From here I think it would take about a day or so walking.” 

“Little one, I have mastered rising phoenix. That should cut any travel time significantly.” 

Underneath his helmet Din fumed. While Paz Vizsla was certainly more seasoned with his own equipment, that didn’t mean he had to be so openly proud about his talents. All it did was add to his already overwhelming ego, not to mention it made Beviin look up at the damn man with blind wonder. 

His clan and Paz readied themselves quickly, packing what little they had for the small venture. Paz had insisted he was better suited to carry Beviin, after all he had his rising phoenix longer. It didn’t bother Din the least bit, for the baby was light in his arms and would probably move around less. But much to his dismay, he was still securing the green baby into his carrier as Paz Vizsla and his eldest took off into the sky, their face full of joy. 

“LOOK! BUIR, I’M FLYING!!!” They cried out, their hair whipping around their face. 

***___***___***

The novelty of flying wore off rather quickly, fear of slipping and plummeting to the ground consuming you. The image was nearly impossible to expunge, falling aimlessly through the sky and smashing flat onto the earth. Your hands gripped the edges of Paz Vizsla’s blue Beskar, legs pressing against the sides of his torso, face pressed on his back. 

“Keep heading north! We’re getting super close!” 

Paz had been right in slashing the travel time. It hadn’t taken very long for you to feel the strong draft of the descent back to the ground. When you heard Paz’s boots hit the ground, it was safe to jump off his back and landed on the grass. Still lagging behind, you could see your Mandalorian flying a bit raggedly through the air. His landing was certainly lackluster, though quite…startling. As he nearly fell over, you could feel the baby’s panic rise and fall. Coming over to where you and Paz stood, the Mandalorian seemed to sulk, prompting Paz Vizsla to clap him on the back hard enough to send him lurching forward. 

“With time your use of rising phoenix will improve. Worry not! If you need an example, just follow mine next time!” Paz said lightly. 

Starting to sense tensions rising, you trotted ahead, anxious to see how much had actually left since you had left Stewjon. While the two men bickered in the back, you wandered ahead to where actual civilization started, and the grass finally ended. That familiar scent of salt mixed fondly with the hot steam which powered the entire village. The wooden houses that were scattered about seemed roughly the same, though there were no familiar faces to be seen. Sparing a look behind, you could see both Mandalorians had started a full-blown argument, each getting into the other’s personal space. Perhaps it would be best to remove yourself from the blooming anxiety. 

All eyes seemed to fall upon your pack, even when you distanced yourself from them, villagers often stared at you in confusion. It must have been the kriffing armor. In truth you preferred to wear what was minimal to ensure you were comfortable, but Mando was having none of those reasons. Instead he insisted on more informing you it was best to be protected as much as possible, the constant wearing of it would only enhance your strength. His reasons were far greater than your own, but that did not mean they were any less annoying. With each set of eyes that followed your tentative gait, you felt like casting the shining armor away, it made you stick out like a Naboo senator in a Tatooine Cantina. 

Steeling your mind, you pressed forward, intent of seeking out someone familiar. Following the same dirt path, you had years ago, you soon saw the familiar vista looking out upon the ocean. Quickening your pace, you could see the bay where all the fishmongers docked their simple boats and sold first pick of their morning catches to early risers. Though now in the early afternoon, there were hardly any souls about, except for one boat docked at the furthest corner of the bay, was that ever-recognizable canoe, usually so small among the other schooners, though all alone like this it seemed even smaller. That strong figure hunched over on the dock radiated a sense of exhaustion that surpassed even that of the Mandalorian, it was far more intense than you remembered. Approaching the figure, you fought the urge to run back to the group.

“H-Hello…” The hollowness of your voice shocked yourself. 

The figure tensed, hands stopping their netting work immediately. Not wanting to think about what was going on the other’s head, you counted the passing seconds, hoping for a response. Instead, that familiar strength once used to save your small form from crashing waves fell upon you with such ferocity you cried out. Weathered hands seized your neck with urgent fervor, pressing harder against your windpipe. 

Your eyes bulged, tears bursting forth. “KITA! IT’S ME! IT’S ME!”

Desperately you searched those familiar blue eyes for some sign of recognition, and to your horror, it was there, and she pressed even harder. You started thrashing about, loosening her grip only lightly, one hand trying to pry hers off, the other yanking at her grey hair. 

“Kita!” You choked and sputtered. “P-Please!”

“You! You kriffing womprat! You should never have come back! Never!” She lifted your body up before slamming it back on the dock. 

Stunned, you lay still, allowing your old friend to land a hit squarely to your face. What the hell had happened? Everything had seemingly been perfect for everyone else when your mother cast you out. The Empire was still in its infancy, but you had done nothing but left. What had happened to your old friend? The only one who bothered to care when the village children teased and made fun of you. The one who fed you warm, steady meals in exchange for working crew on their small boat. Honestly, all you had done was catch fish, more often than not eating them in the process. Kita had been warm, quiet, but fond of your presence. None of that was here now. 

Her form loomed over once more and you braced yourself for impact, but it never came. Instead the sound of a blaster went off, hitting Kita in the shoulder.   
Groaning out, you already knew who it was. Nevertheless, your first concern was your old friend. “No…”

“AD’IKA!” You could hear your father bellow. 

“Buir…” Sitting up, you could see him rush forward, shoving Kita’s injured form out of the way, not far behind was Paz Vizsla, who seized the woman by the back of her shirt. “No! Don’t hurt her!”

Mando’s gloves softly grazed against the skin of your throat, observing the blossoming red marks with tense anger. “Don’t talk.” He ordered. “Your windpipe was almost crushed…”

Sensing Paz was close to doing something rash, you begged him to let Kita go. “Please! I know her! She’s my friend!”

“Is that why she tried to kill you?” He asked curtly. At your silence, he tilted his head to regard the current enemy. “You are so fortunate to be in the presence of these children for they are the only reason that I do not kill you right now.”

“That,” Kita spat, pointing to you, “is no child. That thing is a curse, bringing Imperials around here!” 

So venomous were her words, you felt yourself lean onto the Mandalorian for strength.


	44. Noj-Nata

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the first time in what seems like forever, you finally return to your home town.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoy! I really love writing!

“Stop it! Are you mad?!”

Beviin, while still shaky, left the safety of Din’s arms, moving to approach the woman who had just tried to murder them. He was tempted to pull them back but kept from doing so. Instead, he carefully watched them approach the woman in Paz’s grasp, waving the other Mandalorian off.

“Kita…” It sounded like their throat was full of sand.

The fisherwoman snarled. “Don’t you dare ask ‘why’, you sniveling idiot, you know exactly what happened!”

“Hey!” Din growled, placing one hand on the small blaster at his hip.

Beviin ignored him. “Paz Vizsla, could you please let them go? She’s…A friend.” He complied, though at their word, he promptly dropped the woman on the dock face first.

Sighing, his eldest child, kneeled down to meet the stranger’s gaze as she tried to regain her own composure. “You have to believe me. I…I have no kriffing idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, sure.” She got to her knees. “This prefecture has you to thank for everything the Empire put us through.”

“Me? Kita, what the hell…The Empire was after me?” They squeaked in disbelief.

The woman observed his child with questioning eyes, her anger faltering slightly. “You really don’t know?”

“That’s what I’ve been kriffing saying! For maker’s sake! Look!”

To Din’s surprise, Beviin pushed back the sleeve of their tunic, right where they had been marked. Not once had they shown him the spot where that damned space pirate had branded them, at least not of their own volition. He had spotted it after bandaging them up many a time, but he had assumed the fact it was too shameful a subject to bring up.

“I-I spent…I don’t know how long as the prisoner of some kriffing pirate! Of course, I’m not gonna know they were after me! Hell, the war was still going when I left this place and over when I got away from that bastard!”

Seeing the child’s breathing growing erratic, Din placed a single hand on their shoulder. Immediately, they relaxed, looking back at him with tired eyes.

“M’ sorry.” They croaked.

“I…I didn’t know. Imperials were looking everywhere for you a week after you left. They kept rations and closed us off from other prefectures…it was hell.”

“So, you thought you’d get revenge on my kid by choking them?” Din snarled. “You’re no friend. A friend would have at least listened.”

Grabbing onto his child’s hand, Din nodded to Paz who followed him as they turned away from the woman, leaving her deserted on the docks, her mouth hanging open, eyes fixed on the sea. Poor Beviin wouldn’t stop looking back at their old ‘friend’ until she was entirely out of sight.

“I would advise not wandering off like that ever again.” Paz stated flatly.

Din could see the young one start to protest, but they were immediately cut off. “No speaking for now. When we get back to the ship, I’ll get the med kit.”

They pouted, lightly touching the hot skin of their throat. “I…I’m the o-only one who knows this planet. S-So I’m afraid I’m gonna h-have to speak.”

Clenching his teeth, Din said nothing.

***___***___***

You noticed immediately that your father opted to fall behind, keeping a steady pace with you and Paz up front. Perhaps it was a test of some sort or rather a security measure that he also had you hold the baby, having him in his carrier strapped to your front. If you were to even try to go back to Aritia and speak to Kita, you would have to first make it past Mando and then have to take care of the little one as well. To take you mind off your lost friend, you followed the common dirt road knowing it could only lead one place: Noj-Nata.

“Are we close?” Paz asked after several quiet minutes.

“Yes.” Unfortunately, your Mandalorian was right that you ought to keep words to a minimum.

“That is good then I suppose?” He sighed. “Or, should we expect a welcome similar to that of your-.”

The rest of his words were lost, drowned out by your own flared excitement. There it was, the small outpost that marked the start of your old village. The small wooden structure was still well taken care of, pain slathered on to cover up an old Imperial symbol, an older man lazily gazing out of the small tower. Thinking Paz was right in thinking you might receive a similar welcome akin to the one your old friend gave, you decided to sneak around the back. The older guard seemed much more interested in browsing through his datapad and exploring the holonet.

“Look!” you exclaimed loudly. “That’s the well! And…And…” After jogging into the center of the village, you noticed the almost complete lack of people. Where were the vendors, the families, the other children running about the main square?

“Hey!” Your Mandalorian came sprinting from behind followed closely by Paz Vizsla. “You have to stop running like that! Stay close to me, by my side, okay?”

Not even bothering to talk back to your father, you moved to hold onto his forearm, much to his surprise. 

“So, this is your home, ad’ika? There aren’t many people here.”

Though less sure of yourself, you still lead them forward until you came to see the small stone building that had at one point been your home. It was still in good condition despite the lack of the door, or the pump…and all the flowers had since died, though plenty of brush started to grow all about the dome structure. Slowly, you let your hold on the Mandalorian go, daring to venture through the doorway to find…nothing. A decent layer of sand coated the mosaic floor entirely, but everything else save the firepit which you had always slept next to. Looking to the side, you could see where your mother’s room had once been, though now it was much like the rest of the house. Deserted.

“There’s nothing here…” Mando’s voice was soft. “Are…Are you sure this is it?”

With one hand you scratched the baby’s ears gently, using the other to lead the Mandalorian out of the abandoned structure. When your own grip became too shaky and weak, his moved to turn you to face him.

“Ad’ika…Are you okay? You’re shaking.”

Your own arms wrapped around the baby, hugging him close to your chest. One of his tiny hands reached up to pull at your hair, once in his inescapable grasp he began to chew on it. One of your fathers gloved hands came to tilt your head up.

“N-No!” Releasing the child, you wiped the tears just starting to form. “This…This isn’t my home! It wasn’t t-then! And it’s not now! Or ever!”

Mando rested on one knee to look at you better, quickly looking you over to make sure you weren’t sick or somehow injured. “Please. Just breathe, you’re going to hurt your throat!”

“I don’t care! You’re my home…” You placed one hand on his helmet; it seemed so small. Force willing you had many more years ahead to learn and grow. “You’re stuck with me now.” You said quietly. “C-C’mon. We have to go get supplies.”


	45. Lost Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While on your way to find resources for your journey, Paz Vizsla and DIn Djarin become separated from you and the child. And it is your mission to rescue the both of them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoy!!

“Careful!” The Mandalorian cried, pulling you back from the tree you began climbing, you had been just within reach of the most delicious looking fruit you had laid eyes on in a while.

“Buir!” You whined, letting him pull you down and plop you back on the ground.

“It could be poisonous!” He insisted, shaking his head.

“What?” You glanced back at Paz Vizsla who simply shrugged. “You think I don’t know my own home planet?!”

Not breaking his stride, Mando simply answered. “You didn’t know the directions to your own hometown.”

“Tch, what? Oh…Well that’s because…Well…”

He had a point. In all the times you had wandered around your prefecture, you had never actually bothered to learn the names of the roads and waterways that led between the different villages. Before, organic landmarks, and smells led you on your way, though many years later, such signs as an old berry bush and the climbing rock were long gone. The landscape that had once been so neatly maintained was now overgrown and overtook nearly everything you had once remembered. Feeling somewhat forlorn, you looked up at the sky which had gone from so strikingly blue to suddenly a melancholy grey. Massive clouds overtook the skies, starting to release a heavy downpour of rain.

“Child?”

Despite the intense rain, you remined staring upwards, letting the water soak you completely, unsure of the last time you had witnessed such weather. Without warning, strong arms plucked you from the ground; for a moment you almost panicked, only to find it was the Mandalorian Paz Vizsla who placed you on his shoulder.

“Come, let us find some shelter. It won’t do any good to get soaked.” He stated softly.

From behind, you could feel an overwhelming feeling; glancing over your shoulder, you could see your father, his squared shoulders the only visible sign of his irritation. It wasn’t long before Paz found a deserted Imperial check-in station as a nice spot to have some reprieve from the brewing storm. Once in the small station, he set you down, on the floor, only to have the other motion for him to come outside.

“Wha-.” Before you could finish one word, your father interrupted.

“No need to worry, Ad’ika. The adults just need to talk for a few moments.”

He handed you your brother, the both of you exchanging confused looks. Curious, you watched both men walk off, leaving the two children in the shelter of the abandoned station. Unable to keep to yourself, you couldn’t help but peek around the corner of the old doorway. You couldn’t quite make out what they were saying, but it was certainly growing louder with each minute that passed by.

“Hm? You wanna see?” Accepting the little one’s request, you positioned the baby on your shoulders so he could take in the scene. Their voices were getting harder to hear, so you kept straining until Mando noticed your head sticking out. Clearly annoyed, he led Paz further away until they were completely out of sight.

“Hmph.” You grumbled. “Eavesdropping isn’t _that_ rude…”

Wringing the water out of your clothing, you did the same for your brother until the thought hit you. Peeking back out, you found that both the men had indeed entered into the thick brush of Lost Woods.

***___***___***

“I don’t understand why in kriffing hell you are so incensed that I care about your child!” Paz bellowed.

Din Djarin seethed, turning to look up at damned Paz Vizsla. “All I ask is that is that you perhaps leave the parenting to me. _Their father_!”

Foraging ahead, Paz pushed past Din, easily shoving him aside. “If that is truly what you think, then you know nothing of our people.”

He watched Paz whip around, towering high above him. “Don’t act so superior, Vizsla.”

Paz cocked his head to one side. “It is not acting if that is what I truly am. After all, if I had children, I would be insulted if someone failed to make a fuss over them. So. You, of all people, should be honored that I am very fond of both your children.”

Clenching his fist, Din failed to think of a proper and strong response. While there was a grain of truth in Paz Vizsla’s words, he didn’t need to be a kriffing asshole about it. Abandoning his search for a retort, Din turned, expecting to find a clear route and finding none, he faltered.

“Come.” Paz huffed. “Stop standing around, your children are alone. We must get back to them.”

Din watched smugly as the other walked a few yards ahead, only to look about and return looking rather irked.

“Where the hell have you taken me, Djarin?” Paz growled.

Sighing, Din just shook his head. “As much as I would love for you to get lost, I have no idea where we are…”

“Kriffing hell. Leave it to you.”

Not asking permission, Paz Vizsla took the lead, choosing a direction at random and storming forward. In the wake of his path, the enormous man treaded over flowers, plants and small bugs, not caring, his own anxieties taking over. Din was no better, feeling his head start to spin and hands start to shake just slightly. For a moment, he considered calling out for his children but decided against it. No, doing so would only alarm the young ones.

***___***___***

“Alright, if you don’t want to ride in the carrier, you’re gonna have to walk in front of me, okay?”

Setting the baby on the ground, he looked up at you with a toothy smile. As soon as you realized that both Mandalorians had wandered unknowingly into the Lost Woods, you immediately, prepared yourself for a search and rescue mission. It took a while to prepare but it had to be done unless you wanted to become just as lost as both Mando and Paz Vizsla. The process took about half an hour but after removing your spaulder, you pulled off the sleeves of the tunic Cara had so generously given you, and after finding the single end, you pulled at the thread until both sleeves were entirely undone. After securing your armor once more, you tied the start of the thread to the first tree at the edge of the woods, securing your way back to the main path.

“Alright, little brother! You ready?”

His little green head bobbed up and down, eyes looking ever determined, ready to help save his father. Holding the thread in hand, you strode forward, keeping your wits about you.

“Buir? Hello???” There was no answer. “Mister Vizsla!!” Absolute silence answered you.

The baby looked up at you questioningly, making a small gurgling noise.

“Alright. You take the lead, try not to step on any silent mushrooms.” Another gurgle. “Oh, well, if you do, then the spores will put you to sleep, sometimes for days.”

He nodded, heeding your word quite seriously for such a young child. His little steps led you slowly through the host of trees and brush. The rain continued for a few hours as you wandered, every so often pausing to take a break for water and a ration bar. Leaning against the trunk of a large tree, you felt your own weariness, muscles asking for just a bit of respite. Normally you would have been happy to comply, but with both your father and Paz Vizsla roaming aimlessly through the Lost Woods, you decided to carry on. Somewhat drowsy, you got to your feet, eyes immediately meeting two familiar lights.

“Hey, kid. You doing alright?”

“GAH!” It felt like your heart leapt up into your throat, but you kept your ground. “Master Jedi…Please. Is there any other way for you to make your presence known other than scaring the kriffing hell out of me!”

The green aura drew close, the blue one following in suit.

“Sorry, young one, but I am afraid there is little else that we can do.” The green ghost laughed.

“It wasn’t really that startling, was it?”

Glaring at the blue aura, you took a few deep breaths. “Yeah it was! The ghost of a dead Jedi appearing out of absolutely nowhere is kriffing startling!”

“While you are not my apprentice, I still think you should mind your language.” The elder master sighed. “Besides, it looks as if you could use some help now, does it not?”

“I suppose…” You admitted, scratching the ground with your boot.

“Hm. It is never weakness to admit one needs help. Remember that, child. Now come. Pick up your brother and follow us.”

There was a slight sinking feeling starting to manifest in your chest, making each step especially heavy. You followed the departed Jedi masters, having a hold on both the baby and the remaining thread. The weight of your wet clothes started to become burdensome, the cold settling, making you shiver.

The blue aura fell back right next to your side. “I know you’re tired, kid. But now is the time to steel yourself.”

“Here.” The elder declared.

A small cry became stuck in your throat, nearly choking you. Just a few feet in front of you were the unconscious bodies of both Paz Vizsla and your father. A massive trail of crushed silent mushrooms going off in one direction. Observing them for a second, you could see that both men were breathing steadily, with no visible sign of injuries. 

“Wh…What do I do?” You breathed shakily.

“I think the little guy wants to help.” The younger Jedi Master pointed out with a hint of amusement.

Shaking your head, you immediately shut the idea down. “No. He has a habit for overextending himself. I don’t need the baby passing out…”

“Don’t worry. We’ll help.”

And with that promise you gathered what strength you could, holding onto an arm of each man.


	46. Blunt Awakening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You and the baby manage to make it out the woods with both Paz and Din. Together you forge on only for your father to learn something quite startling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I haven't updated lately. I've just been really depressed but I should be updating more frequently now!

Your arms had become weary and nearly numb in their stagnant position as you still had a tight grip on the Mandalorian's ankle, muscles taut and begging for rest. The late Jedi masters, the baby and yourself had been carefully making your way through the Lost Woods for some time now, what felt like days had only been over a handful of hours, but hauling the limp body of a fully grown, possibly human man with not only your own strength but some lent to you by the ghosts of the Jedi masters, keeping their promise. Even going so far as to somehow pull Paz Vizsla along as well.

However, either their power was waning of you were weaker than you initially thought because exhaustion wracked your whole body. You had done your best to avoid all of the poisonous mushrooms, lest you meet the same fate and end up unconscious right next to your father and his friend. Both Masters insisted you keep pushing forward without even a little respite, the elder telling you he senses if you were to stop, you would either fall asleep or lose the will to push forward until the next day.

“Master Jedi,” you cried, “my arms hurt really bad!”

The green aura stopped ahead where it had previously been leading you, his fellow spirit following suit.

“Little one, I am afraid there is little else I can do for you at this point in time. It is already quite a feat for any Jedi to become a spirit within the Living Force. Some even receive help from others after death.”

Blowing a few stray hairs from your line of vision, you let out a low growl. The strain of heaving such weight was becoming too much for you. Surely if you were to pull for just a moment longer something would pop. With sweat pouring down from your temple, trickling heavily down obscuring your view, you gave one last heavy tug.

CLICK

“KARK!”

A sudden wave of pain shot through your arm, radiating throughout the entirety of your body. At once you let go of the Mandalorian's leg, falling forward and properly hitting your head against his forged Beskar armor. Groaning you sat up, giving yourself a moment to find your bearings. Tiny fingers poked and prodded at your leg until you once again snapped back to attention.

“You alright there kid?” The younger Master circled around you a few times before calming down. His energy was certainly powerful so much so to a point of being overwhelming. “Can...Can you move your arms?”

Wincing, you tested the limits, bending your arms just slightly until I think I can keep going...”

Scrambling to your feet you went to grab the Mandalorian once again, but found that his limp form shifted forward before you could get a hold on his ankle. Disgruntled you tried again, only to once again, miss. Before you could let out a long string of swears, The body of the Mandalorian was lifted a few feet off of the ground, his limbs hanging loose. Glancing behind, you could see the baby, his little hands raised, eyes focused squarely on lifting his father.

“Little brother!” You begging was weak but still insistent. “You're going to strain yourself! And...And I don't know if I can heal you or not!”  
  


The little child broke his focus to look at you with perhaps pity and then redirected his attention to the task at hand.

“Master Jedi!” You protested, hoping they would side with you. “He- He can't! He shouldn't! Tell him not to!”

The elder seemed to consider your plea but you could feel his interest pique in the child and his abilities.

You could feel a warm sensation on your shoulder offering a calming wave wash over you.

“We'll make sure he's alright the best we can. Just follow behind, alright?”

Nodding, you obeyed the strong voice of the younger Jedi spirit, concerned but glad you no longer had to try and carry a whole grown being on your own. The rest of the hike seemed dreamlike, the pitch of the forest illuminated by the poisonous mushrooms and the tame light of the spiritual auras, making reentry into sunlight quite startling. Rubbing your eyes, you picked up the baby who released his hold on your father, setting him gently on the grass.

Just as you were about to ask something of the two master Jedi, you could hear the Mandalorian groan and shift around, and glancing around, you could find the ghosts had once again left. As disappointed as you were, all attention was now on the two Mandalorians coming to.

“Papa! Wake up!” The little green one joined you in shaking Mando awake, gently pushing on his shoulder.

“Urgh...Kid?” The man sat up, swaying a bit before stabilizing. “What...What the hell happened?”

The poison had ran its course, he was clearly groggy but overall, he would be okay. Very much glad he was awake and recovered, you tackled the Mandalorian in a hug, almost sending him falling back once again.

“OOF! Kriffing hell, kid. Did ya' miss me much?” He chuckled, wrapping one arm around you, the other around the baby.

Once he let you go, you checked on Paz Vizsla, hugging his arm. “Kark! I'm so glad you guys are okay!”

“Watch your language, young one.” He mumbled. “But it is good to see you. It feels...It feels like its been days.”

Sitting back, you scratched your head. “Yeah. Silent mushrooms kinda do that. When you step on em' they release spores that put you to sleep. It may feel like days or weeks, but I think it's only been around half a day.”

Your little brother waddled over, climbing into the safety of your arms, eyes fluttering open and closed.

“I should have warned you...”

You could see your father glance back at Paz Vizsla, almost expectantly. But when he said nothingm, your father spoke.   
  


“A'dika, this is not your fault. You are not responsible for my well being.”

Letting his words hang in the air for a while, you could hear ringing in your ears.

“Then who is gonna protect you?”

The Mandalorian did not know how to answer.

***___***___***

“Are we close?” Din asked his oldest child, trying to keep his pace even as to keep a solid grip on them. Young Beviin had given both he and Paz the un-detailed story of how they found the both of them unconscious in the Lost Woods, and somehow hauled them out. At first, Din had been extremely skeptical, but hesitantly, Beviin showed how they had managed but not without over straining themselves. For now, he carried her on his back, the baby carried by Paz Vizsla.

“I believe they are asleep, Din. Not that I blame them, the poor thing was almost shaking.”

Djarin sighed. As thankful as he was the kid was getting some rest, but they had been leading the way to the nearest trading station, and without a guide, they were as good as lost. Not wanting to have a innocent he decided it would be best for his clan plus one to settle for the night. After setting the children down to sleep, covering them in his cape, he had Paz gather some wood and made a small fire. Not that it was particularly cold, in fact the Stewjoni weather was quite amicable, the evening almost warm except for a slightly chilling breeze. So not willing to compromise the health of his clan, he made sure both the children were plenty warm.

“You...You're a good father, Din Djarin.” Paz said rather flatly. “They are luck to have you.”

Underneath his helmet, he quietly cursed himself for the warmth building in his cheeks. “What's with it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Why the hell are you complimenting me? Get to the point.” He growled.

Paz Vizsla sighed, laying back, hands laced behind his helmet. “I thought I would try my hand at some earnesty with you. My apologies.”

Taken aback, Din could only watch as the other Mandalorian turned on his side to find some sort of rest. The crackle of the fire grew weaker and weaker, his only company at the present moment. The small flames curled and flickered, eventually dying out completely. And when the sun rose once more, the Mandalorian found himself still staring at ashes.

***___***___***

“W......up...co....n...w...”

Letting out an annoyed gurgle, you pulled the soft fabric that had been laid across you closer almost over your face until it was pulled from your grasp completely. Only half awake, you pushed yourself up, despite the throbbing pain in your arms.

“Give...It back.!” You protested before letting out a yawn.

“It's my cloak.” Came a soft, but stern voice.

“Buir, give it back.” You were awake now and there was no reason to have it as a blanket anymore, but it was now a matter stubbornness and sheer will. “It was over me so now its mine.”

A strange sound came from his helmet, whether it was a scoff or chuckle was unknown to you an difficult to discern. Almost lazily, he snapped the cloak back into place, letting fall about his shoulders and back naturally. The baby who was now also awake, looked at you with a smirk of sorts. He agreed. Quickly snaking around Mando, you leapt up, wrapping one arm loosely around his neck, the other holding fast onto the cloak trying to free it from where the Mandalorian had tightly tucked it.

“ACK-Beviin! Kark! What the hell are you doing?!” Your father said, trying to get you off his back as gently as he could while turning rapidly in circles.

“Give it back!” You demanded, pulling on the fabric to no avail.

Coming from behind you, Paz easily peeled you off the Mandalorian's back, holding you up in the air with your arms flailing. After a few moments, you accepted the failure, and stopped struggling.

“There are better outlets for your rambunctious energy than trying to tackle your father, little one.” Paz said, placing you on the ground. With a scowl, you dusted, yourself off, and resigned yourself to defeat.

If your memory truly served you right, there was only one place where you could get all manner of supplies from foodstuffs to serpent teeth and that was Meren's. The walk was short only a handful of hours until you were long past the Lost Woods and came right upon the large, riverside hut. It was rather old, having been standing for over a few centuries, only to be renovated slightly every once in a while. Though now it seemed in the years you had been exiled from Stewjon, old Meren hadn't bothered to touch a thing.

“Here it is!” You exhaled, looking back at both the Mandalorians. Both looked at each other for a second before Mando turned to you.

“A'dika, are you sure this is the place?”

Squinting your eyes at him, you cracked your knuckles. “Given I used to live on this planet and been here before, I'm thinkin' so.”

When neither of the adults moved, you rolled your eyes, scooping the baby up from the ground and proceeded to go inside. Pushing open the wooden door with one hand, the smell of warm food filled your nostrils, mixing with a glorious medley of herbs and spices, instantly making your mouth water. Now that the Empire was a dynasty of the past, there were hundreds of new items lining the many shelves, barrels, buckets and boxes filled to the brim with merchandise, barely leaving you enough room to move around. Up on the ceiling hung perfectly strung wind chimes, swaying gently their soft symphony only adding to the cluttered quirkiness of the shop.

“Oh my!” Came a weathered voice. “Is that really you child?”  
  


A wide grin spreading across your face, you pushed past all the inventory, only knocking a few items over.

“Yup! I's me!”

Rushing to the back of the shop, you saw old woman Meren, sitting amazed at her desk, hands in the middle of weaving a thick fishing net. Her dexterous hands stopped, a finger beckoning you to come closer. You took a few steps forward, until Meren could reach over and lightly ghost a hand over the features of your face.

“Some new scars...But you are the same child...I thought you left and died, little child!” She gasped, a look of shock taking over.

Smiling weakly, you placed the baby on the table, letting him wander on the surface, Immediately he picked up the unfinished net and pursued to chew on the fibers absentmindedly.

Meren sighed, pulling at one of her silver braids. “Child, you do know your mother-.”

“I k-know.” You stuttered quickly.

She seemed suspicious, but dropped the topic at hand, more interested in the sound of heavy boots and the ring of armor entering her shop.

“No Imperials!” She bellowed, slamming a fist down hard, startling both you and the baby.

“It's okay!” You insisted, “They're with me! And trust me, they are not trooper scum.”

The old woman settled, permitting both men inside. “My apologies...When I hear the heavy footsteps reminiscent of soldiers...I assume the worst.”

“That is understandable.” Paz said, looking around the curious shop. “You know this little one?”

You moved back to stand by the other two, pulling the baby with you who squeaked in protest.

Meren smiled warmly. “Anyone in this prefecture knows them.”

Giving the woman a questioning look, you wondered what that might mean. To your knowledge only your few friends and a handful of your mother's acquaintances were aware of your very existence. Meren realized the weight of her words and you could feel her emotions become exceptionally anxious.

“Little one, why don't you go out back to the river! With the Empire gone, the waters are once again full of life.”

Reluctantly you did as you were told, though not to placate the adults, but to escape the newly strange atmosphere.

***___***___***

Din could read the concern on his child's face as they scampered outside. As soon as they were gone with the baby, the old woman let out groan.

“As I get older...the more mistakes I end up making.” She lamented.

“Would you like to explain why you sent my kid out?” Din asked curtly, hands resting on his hips.

“This is my shop, young man! I won't have you speaking that way to me, do you hear? Now, either I am more far gone than I though or did you say that child is your kid?”

“I wouldn't lie about such a thing. Of course they're my kid.” He huffed.

“...There's only one people that I know would take in such a child without pause. Given the new scars of that child, I doubt your journey together has been without a host of problems.”

From beside himself, Din could hear Paz chuckle.

“My the galaxy works in strange ways. To know that the child of Jedi knight would end up the child of a Mandalorian...”

Both men's heads snapped up in attention, nearly in unison.

Din's mouth went dry. “E-Excuse me?” He choked out.

The woman's jaw set. “Oh. You didn't know.” She paused. “Though it's not like they knew either...”

Her ramblings continued more to herself than anyone else, but Din was certainly not listening. Instead there was a loud ringing in his ears, making his head swarm, unable to focus on anything in the moment.


	47. The Mysterious Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stranger is coming. They have made their declaration. Your head aches terribly figuring out what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe I'm on chapter 47. What the hell am I gonna do when s2 comes out? Ideas???? Help???

You and your little brother were poking around the river, catching as much fish and shellfish as your brother could stomach. Perhaps his metabolism was infinitely quick as he had not stopped eating for nearly the entire time.

“Are you sure you're not gonna get sick, little brother?” You asked tentatively, prying open a stubborn clam.

The baby gurgled and babbled, his small hand grabbing at the food you pried from the shell. With a small smile, you placed it in his hand which he gobbled up in a few seconds. Once he had wiped all the remnants from his little green face, his hands reached out, expecting more.

“Kriffing hell, y'know what that's it, you've eaten more than I could in a millennia! I swear if you throw up I'm not gonna clean it up.”

You halfheartedly listened to the little one complain, watching as he stomped his tiny feet and tried in vain to undo the straps of your boots. Quickly you figured out a distraction that worked well as an exercise8 of sorts. Calmly, you raised small spheres of water from the river, hovering them around the baby and whenever he poked one, you burst the orbs into a gentle spray. When the baby's eyes widened, you turned around to see Paz with his arms quite full with numerous bundles and your father storming over.

“Buir! What did you- oof!”

At once you were lifted off the ground, the Mandalorian's grip under your armpits. His aura was full of pure confusion and a hint of fear.

“Din.” Paz warned, his voice stern.

For nearly a whole minute, he simply stood there holding you with your feet dangling over the ground. His breathing was deep but not labored as he stared right ahead. Unsure of what to do, you remained still, knowing he would never harm you.

“Did you know?” He breathed. “Do you know who he was?”  
  


Your brow furrowed and you shifted about, but Mando's grip was vice-like, though it did not hurt.

“Who's 'he'?”

He paused, searching your face for anything readable. “Your father.”

“Pfft! You almost scared me!” Wriggling, you managed to break free, landing on the grass. “This some sort of joke? You're my father, or didja forget?”

The Mandalorian didn't move, seemingly taken aback at your answer. You looked at him raising an eyebrow, but the bundles in Paz's arms soon stole your attention away. Your little brother followed behind, sparing Mando a quick glance, but like you was far more interested in the one warm bundle the other was holding.

“ThatsmellssogoodcanIhaveonenow?” Jumping up, you tried to snatch the package, only to have Paz Vizsla successfully fend you off with one hand, trying to maneuver about without stepping on the toddler who was trying to grab his feet.

“Kark, Djarin! I swear it's like you don't feed them enough!”

Your father still seemed to be far off in his own mind, so he simply shrugged.

The sweet meat filled buns were supposed to be a surprise, but neither Mandalorian had accounted for your acute smell. Still, they each let you have one on the hike back to the ship. No one really said anything much, save the baby who was babbling to himself, having finished his food swiftly. Paz seemed rather tired, but your father still had an air of foreboding about him. Walking mechanically with his head turned slightly down. Having some confidence in your abilities, you tried to reach out to him, but instead of Din Djarin's familiar aura, there was something else. Within second a searing hot sensation wrapped around the skin of your neck. Immediately you hand flew to pull the force away, only to find nothing physically there, nails scraping at flesh. No one else noticed your silent plight, all looking ahead and not behind.

_**Sh...Sh...Be still, and know that I am here.** _

Your eyes bulged recognizing the voice at once. Begrudgingly, you did your best to calm your mind and body, your muscles going somewhat slack but not by your own doing. For a brief moment, Mando turned to look at you, head tilting slightly to the side.

_**If you even finish that thought, I will slaughter him where he stands. Do you understand?** _

Heeding the incorporeal voice, you forced a smile on your face, more of a smirk than anything. A little mischief to ensure him that you're alright. He seemed satisfied enough and turned back around.

Good. Obedience will serve you well. How does it feel?

Taking a deep breath, you realized this was a connection that did not hold you in favor.

**I know that voice. You were there on the ship. You hurt me again and again!**

_**It was necessary. A small price for something with such great potential. Though it wasn't without issue. That idiot forgot to take in account the spontaneity of a child.** _

“Hey, kid? Are you okay?” Din asked. “You look...angry.”

“Huh? Oh...Yeah I'm just kinda tired.” You lied.

_**Excellent. You're doing so well. Though, the choice is no longer entirely yours I suppose. No...Even the blood in your veins will obey my every order.** _

You could feel bile start to build in your throat.

**That...the ether. You had that put inside me, didn't you?!**

_**Precisely. Now. You have been a bit of a kriffing problem for me as of late and it has...marred my mien. It would behoove you to simply do as I say.** _

**Or what? Are you gonna kill me?**

_**I shall do you one better. I will kill him.** _

Your eyes flew to your father.

_**And the little one.** _

There was the baby, nibbling on one of his fingers.

_**And the mighty one who thinks of you fondly.** _

**No! Not them! Not Paz! You wouldn't! You cant.**

_**Are you willing to test that little theory?** _

The Mandalorian Din Djarin had picked up the baby and was so gently patting him on the back, helping the tiny one burp properly. When he did, Paz let out a hearty laugh that warmed your heart.

**No...No I don't.**

_**Good. It would be incredibly selfish for you to put your own needs before that of those who have taken pity on you.** _

I...Please...What in the kriffing hell do you want?

_**It is what I am taking back, young apprentice. It is what you are made for. Know that I am near, and our rising will be glorious.** _

***___***___***

The Mandalorian Din Djarin placed young Beviin down on their little bed, slipping off their spaulder and boots, placing then neatly at the bottom of the cot. Their breathing was heavy, each one desperate in a way. With caution, he removed a glove, placing two fingers where Beviin's brow was deeply furrowed. Such extreme tension for one so young, how that was possible, Din had more than a few ideas. They had been almost joyful in the last few moments of their time on Stewjon. He had nearly been just the same.

His child did not know. They were perfectly unaware of the man that had both sired and left them alone many years ago. What had been so utterly dire that a man would leave both his loved one and child? But who was he to act as both judge and jury. Din had now become quite familiar with the look of fear his eldest would often adopt in moments of extreme tension. And he recognized that look as they walked back to the ship, their face contorted, eyes alarmingly wide. Their gaze had been fixed solely on the ground, but no common signs of their earlier...episodes.

“...Bu....”

Jerking awkwardly, Din whipped his head around to find the source of the noise, only to see the baby tugging at his boot. Letting his guard down, he scooped the baby up in his arms, still amazed at how tiny he really was. Hell, on the floor, the child was just a bit smaller than his footwear!  
  


With those pointy claws, the baby poked at his Beskar. The dim lighting allowed for the child to see his own reflection in the armor, just distorted somewhat. An adorable little grin spread across his face as he moved about, seeing in what other ways he could make his reflection look. All was well until the baby started to lick the kriffing Beskar.

“Hey! Stop it !” The Mandalorian hissed, pulling the baby away from his chest with both hands. “Krif... I haven't even cleaned it for the day...”

The baby smiled. “B...buh...”

Din Djarin pointed at his kid, “You better not get sick. You make your buir worry, y'know that?”

His son cooed, letting his body sink into Din's steady grasp.

“Alright, c'mon I guess we'll go get some sleep, A'dika.”

As he walked out of the room with his son drifting off, he looked back at his other beloved child to see them toss and turn in their slumber. Not far off, Paz sat polishing his weapons with respectable reverence. While that man could easily make Din's blood boil, he could be trusted.

“Paz.” The other turned, interested at the out of place initiation. “I...May I ask you to watch over Beviin?”

“Of course.” He answered, drawing himself upright. “You need only ask.”

Din paused a mere second before nodding and retreating to his quarters.


	48. Hard Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a horrifying vision, Din decides to confront you, and Paz, finds use of extra time to craft something exceptional.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all like it! Also I'm taking requests and prompts on my tumblr @daviwrites

Bolting upright, Din forgot that the baby was clinging to his chest. Had those little claws not been clinging to his shirt, the little one would have gone flying from the bed. As he panted, sweat collecting in his helmet, his son, quite angry at the sudden awakening, murmured and blabbered aggresively, even baring those small teeth at him.

“S-Sorry, kid...Just...Just gimme a sec.”

Gently, he placed the child on the bed and hurried silently to the refresher, his heart pounding. With the door shut and locked, Din Djarin wasted no time in taking his helmet off, savoring the air that actually passed through his lips. Turning on the water, he washed his face vigorously, hoping he had just been dreaming. Looking at his reflection, the wild quality of his eyes was alarming, harkening back to his younger days. This was a new sort of fear, not for himself, or that of a comrade, but for the young ones under his care who could not properly care for themselves. Since waking, Din had the urge to go into the young one's quarters and see if his other child was indeed alright. Surely they had to be, he had Paz Vizsla watch over them and since everything was silent save his jarring waking, they were alright.

But what if they were not? Those images he could not expunge from his mind, the visions were so plainly clear as if the violence was happening right in front of him. His child was simply sitting, locked securely to a chair while someone hovered over them, doing something. Unfortunately, Din was too far off, and the scene kept shifting strangely. The Mandalorian would have simply written it off as yet another horrid dream until Beviin looked in his direction, locking eyes with him. Up until then, they had not been making a sound, keeping mostly limp, but when their head turned, that their indifference turned into sheer horror.

Taking a few, quick, desperate breaths, Din tried in vain to relax the tension plaguing his body, but not much came of his efforts. For now, he would just have to keep it to himself until morning when the rest of his clan was awake. Waking and questioning Beviin would only serve to make them frightful. Wiping away another fresh layer of sweat from his brow, Din fit his helmet back on and retreated back to his bed. For certain they would talk in the morning. Damn him if he were to let them face the dangers of the world alone. He would be there by his side whether they liked it or not.

***___***___***

Awkwardly, you jerked involuntarily, waking at once head coming up to smack against something hard.

“Kark!” You yelped, hands moving to rub the throbbing spot. “Gah! That hurt!” Falling back on the bed, you looked to see the form of a Mandalorian, and judging by the size it was certainly not your father.

“You were having a nightmare, I believe.” He said nonchalantly. “I was checking to make sure you were alright.”

“Oh...Wait, why the hell were you watching me while I was sleeping?” Incredulous, you tried squinting to see if Paz Vizsla was showing any bodily emotions.

“Your father asked that I made sure you were alright. He suspected something was the matter and by the looks of it, he was right.”

Sighing, you messaged your temples, already feeling tired despite having just woken. “Great. Fantastic. That's just what need!”

Paz simply looked on as you went on a brief tirade in a language he could not understand. Part of you wanted to scream at the man, demanding he leave you in peace. But he had gone out of his way to ensure your safety.

“I know it is far easier said than done, but it is in your best interest to try and calm yourself.”

“Yeah!” You growled, gritting your teeth. “I do kriffing know that!”

The Mandalorian watched you take ragged breaths before reaching behind himself to grab something. Though your vision was far from adequate, his movements captured your attention, was he going to give you something to mitigate your anxiety?

“Since I didn't sleep last night, I thought I would try to make up for what I took from you.” Was there a slight crack in his voice or was that simply the modulator in his helmet?

“Um, what do you mean, you haven't taken anything from me...”

Paz Vizsla produced an item before you, the object resting in both hands. Though, given your damaged eyes, all you could make out was a dark blur of sorts.

“What do you think” His deep voice asked.

Pursing your lips, you scratched your head. “Um, I don't know what it is. I can't exactly see it.”

You could feel a sense of unease course through the man in front of you before it settled. Since when were you able to feel Paz's emotions? His presence withing the Force had been so heavily guarded, for the longest time you had no way of identify his feelings except by analyzing his voice. That too tended to be unremarkably flat and void of inflections, though when it came to your father his voice tended to become rather loud.

“Ah, yes I should have known. Here lay your hands out flat.”

Nodding, you heeded his word, letting your hands lay out. In a moment you could feel something light and cool settle against your skin. Tentatively, you examined the object with your fingers, noting the two circular forms connected by some flexible metal and a long strap.

“Are these goggles” You asked, at once being more gentle with the piece.

The Mandalorian grunted in agreement. “Yes. I know more than just how to shoot a blaster, you know. Here, let me help.”

Holding completely still, you shut your eyes, allowing him to take the goggles from your hands and slip them around your head. He made sure you knew to tell him if he fastened them too tight as he secured the strap tautly. The sensation of the frames around your eyes was new, not awful, but certainly not comfortable.

“Come on, young one...Open your eyes.”

Your heart began to beat faster. And very slowly, you did as the Mandalorian asked. At once, light flooded your vision, the grand warrior appearing before you so perfectly, you could make out even the tiniest dents in his prized Beskar. Now your perception was flawless, as if you had never been wounded to begin with.

“I-I...I'm-I don't know what to say.” In an effort to see if this was real, you squeezed your eyes shut and opened them, but this was your new reality.

“You do not have to say anything, little one. This is how I try to right my wrong.”

Shaking your head, you wondered if all Mandalorians like Paz and your father were so honorable. “I did try to kriffing kill you.”

He hummed in reply. “That you did but was it of your own volition?”

“No.”  
  


He leaned forward, inspecting how well your new goggles fit and looked. “These are beyond ordinary.” Paz tapped the side of his helmet. “There are buttons on the sides you should familiarize yourself with, settings so you should be able to see in nearly any condition imaginable. It should also be able to withstand the gamut of elements, but for Maker's sake please do not go out of your way to be reckless with them.”

Pressing the small buttons on the side, you could see Paz was right, he had expertly equipped these for anything one could imagine.

“Holy hell...How did you make these?!”

Standing, Paz Vizsla offered you his hand and he gently helped you to your feet. “Patience and time, little one.”

***___***___***

While Din was bushed and even a bit frazzled, his son was quite invigorated after his morning bath, flailing about and chewing anything those tiny mitts could snatch. Leaving his quarters with the baby in his arms, he sluggishly dragged himself to the main corridor, lamenting rest he was denied yet again. But this fatigue did not last long, for, upon entering, he came upon a peculiar scene. Alert and focused, his oldest child sat, legs crossed and tucked in front of them. Their head was held high, concentrating on the datapad held in front of them by Paz Vizsla.

“Now,” Paz swiped the screen, a single word appearing. “Read this to me. At your own pace of course.”

His voice simply radiated such a mellow nature, Din was sure this had to either be a facade or those mushrooms from the Lost Woods truly obliterated his mind. Then there was the kid, who-Wait.

“Hm...B-Bes'laar.”

“Which means...?”

“Music!” Beviin almost cheered, the scars on their face stretching with their smile.

“What the hell is on your face.”

Beviin's head snapped to attention, looking upon Din for only a moment with great melancholy. Before they could answer, Paz stood to his full height, regarding him carefully.

“That's no way to greet them. Right, A'dika?”

His kid forced a smile, jumping to their feet, hands going to pull at the hem of their tunic. “Look what he made me, Buir. I can see now!”

It took him far too long to process the entirety of the situation than he liked to admit, a good portion of that time was spent staring at the child, then testing to make sure it was true and not some sort of elaborate prank to be pulled since he was in a state of intense fatigue. But, no. Their new vision was indeed very real.

“And he started teaching me to read again! M' not very good, but it's a start...again.”

Din handed the little one off to Paz, he would have to thank at some damned point, but as to how he had no idea. Kark that bastard! At this rate he would be in his debt until the end of time.

“Could you get the child something to eat? He's been chewing on my clothes ever since he woke up.”

The other Mandalorian nodded, turning to face Beviin who look at him desperately for a moment. “We'll practice again later, I promise.”

Their ears drooped when they were finally alone, Din deciding how best to address the subject at hand. By how vigorously Beviin was tapping their foot, he assumed they had the same dream last night.

“So...Can I go get something to eat or-”

“No.” Din's voice came out harsher than he intended, causing the poor kid to wince.

Beviin huffed. “Well if you're gonna say something then kriffing say it!”

Clenching his fists, it wasn't like he could exactly blame them for this attitude. His inability to initiate the conversation was only adding to the building suspense.

“Kriff, you know what.” Taking in a deep breath Din hoped Beviin would level with him. “I had a dream last night.”

“O-Oh.”

“I know you saw me, A'dika. You have to tell me when something is wrong. You told me you would!”

There was no snarky remark or declaration of profanity, nor incoherent outburst. Instead, Beviin's lower lip began to tremble, face fighting desperately to maintain its neutrality. The fight didn't last long, for within a matter of seconds, they groaned in agony, hands reaching up to grab their hair in frustration.

“I-I don't know what to do!” They wailed. “It's not kriffing fair! Stupid kriffing space wizards giving me their kriffing problems!”

Beviin took one of their fists slamming it heavily against the durasteel wall, regretting it immediately, clutching their throbbing hand.

“Hey, hey, hey!” Mando cautiously moved over, grabbing his child's wrists so they would stop flailing about with reckless abandon.

“Lemme go, you metal head!” They growled, trying hard to wrestle out of his grip. Without their powers and in this distressed state, Beviin's strength was incredibly easy to ward off. In fact, he did not have to do much to keep them from getting away.

“It's alright...I'm here...Just let it all out...There we go.”

He waited patiently, speaking to the child calmly as they sobbed and tried controlling their ragged breathing, the wheezing eventually becoming soft. Satisfied that they would not lash out again, Din let go, letting Beviin remove their goggles and wipe away the mess of tears that had welled up inside.

“Kark,” the young one mumbled, “I told myself I wasn't gonna cry anymore...”

“Sometimes, it can't be helped, little one.” Affectionately, he nudged their chin, thankful when a genuine smile drew up the sides of their mouth. “I need to know what's upsetting you, alright?”  
  


Beviin puffed their cheeks and let out a breath of air.

“Please, if anything happened to you-”

“Well what if something happens to you?!” The kid's voice nearly broke, but they steeled themself

“Then I really need to know.” Din stated rather bluntly.

They took a few seconds, adjusting their goggles, doing anything to stall. “How much did you see in the dream?”

“All of it...Until, y'know.”

“Kark, 'course you did...”

They lifted their gaze to Din. He couldn't see their eyes now guarded and enhanced by the gold-tinted lenses. Not being able to truly gauge their emotions was indeed unsettling.

“Fine. But you're not gonna believe it.”


	49. Do it for Them

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You finally confess everything to both Mandalorians. Realizing how ill-preared you are, the aid of old Jedi is masters is sought out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry the updates have been taking forever I've been struggling with depression and stress from school. Hope you enjoy! I'm taking requests, questions and suggestions in the comments and at my Tumblr @daviewrites

“Okay, I need you to sit down and tell me everything.” Din motioned you to take a seat at the end of your bed.

“You're going to tell _**us**_ everything.” For such a huge man, Paz made no sound moving into the doorway of your quarters.

Great. Another presence to pressure you for information. Groaning, you fell back on the cot, grabbing the blanket Din had given you at the start, you used it to cover your face. Would that damn voice know you were about to tell both the Mandalorians what was actually going on? It was not like you understood what that entity had in store for you. Though with your luck, this bastard would have only the most horrific agenda in mind.

“Where the hell is the kid?” Din growled.

Paz sighed, “Yes, Din I left him in the cockpit to fly the ship all by himself.”

“Stop f-”

“Of course I didn't he's in his pod asleep.” Paz Vizsla growled. “Stop worrying for a fraction of a second Beviin looks ready to snap.”

Truthfully you were, it would have been more that wonderful to not have the sound of bickering relentlessly droning on, but at this point you were far too tired to do anything mischievous.

Din turned to you giving yet another great sigh, he hardly went an hour without one. “Are you sure you want to talk now?”

“Yeah,” you yawned, letting your head fall back. “Better get it out before I forget everything I've put together.”

First, you took a few moments to yourself, taking in deep breaths, piecing your thoughts together. It all fit, not well, but after taking the time to dwell on the situation at hand, it was making sense.

“I don't know if you're going to believe me. Either of you. I...I guess I have to believe it since it's actually happening to me...”

Without warning, vollies of tears poured down your cheeks, their warmth quickly growing cold. You started slowly, pushing away a hand that tried to gently wipe away the tears. As much as you craved the affection, it would distract.

***___***___***

None of it made rational sense. Why anyone? Who would willingly do this to a child? Why his child? Beviin had explained it to the best of their ability, focusing so intensely, that they even shoved him away at one point. 

Their life had changed the moment they were handed over to that space pirate. The poor child was unsure but there was a way to detect those who had their abilities, very few possessed such a power. That is how  _The Other_ had discovered the,  _The Other_ is what his child called this voice of pure malice. At first Din was sure this was a culmination of everything that had happened, all the stress, violence and unknown of the road he was leading them down. But this thought was expunged when his child pulled down the collar of their tunic, revealing the ghoulish, glowing red marks streaking across their skin. It was the effects of the ether having grown far worse than Din could have imagined. That wretched poison, this thing that was tormenting one of his own, one of his clan, needed to be eliminated for good. At this very moment it was coursing through their body, causing their veins to radiate a horrendous red, showing through the thick of their skin. 

When they had finished, Din reassured them as best he could despite knowing fully he had no clue where to start. Where did one go to fight an unknown enemy? Especially one that could infiltrate the mind. Then there was the baby to think about, this monstrosity had the audacity to not only threaten his life, but that of both his children and even Paz Vizsla.

Slowly, Din directed the baby's pod to the children's room, making sure not to stir him too much. Looking over at Beviin, he could feel his own throat clench. They had already attacked him once, coming at him with such ferocity, he needed his ass saved. But as they lay asleep in their cot, face at ease, no furrowed brow or tightened jaw, they almost seemed like an ordinary child, one that would wake in the morning, play and then attend to their studies. Perhaps in another life. A life capable of mercy.

Exiting their room, Din decided to try and sleep, not because he was on the brink of exhaustion, but hoping he would find himself in the other's dream.

***___***___***

“I feel his presence.” You pursed your lips. “But I'm sure he can't hear us.”

“Very well.” The older spirit relented, drawing close with his younger compatriot. “Have you been feeling well lately?”

“Master, not that feeling well isn't important but we've got Sith to deal with!” The other insisted floating about in a sort of tantrum.

This dreamscape was far more comfortable than the other world. For in the material world, you had the fortune of leaving behind your physical ailments and agonies. So letting the two exchange a few aggressive pleasantries was more than bearable.

“I don't understand how my master tolerated you as a teacher...” The blue ghost shuddered, followed by its elder for a moment, taking on a distinctly human forms. Your mouth dropped open, no words flowing forth. The first was older, more matured. Very tall in stature with long, warm hair tied back neatly, matching his trimmed beard. Next to him was quite the becoming human, mahogany hair, a strong frame, handsome features accentuated by a scar.

“COULD YOU DO THIS THE ENTIRE TIME!?” You cried.

“Well, we have been helping you along, so that's been taking up some energy, kid.” He stretched, giving off an irritated groan. “Kark, this is so much better...You can stop staring at me like that, okay kid?”

Setting your jaw, you scowled. “I do have a name.”

“Yeah, Beviin or whatever second name that Mandalorian gave you. I've got one too, but you can just call me Anakin.”

The Jedi carrying more grace stepped forward, pinching the bridge of his nose. “If we're sharing names now, Qui Gon will do just fine. I apologize for his...brashness. Sometimes he simply cannot help it.”  
  


You sat up from where you had previously been laying. Staring up at both the men in a sort of bewildered awe. While they repeatedly asked if you were well, all you could do was stare, lost briefly in your own thought. They both felt familiar, not their faces. Both had such distinct features, surely you wold have remembered encountering such men. Instead it was there presence, recognizable within the living Force.  
  


“Young one. Are you there?”

Warmth spread across your shoulder at the spirit's touch, quickly pulling you into the present.

“Sorry, Master Jedi. It's...You both feel familiar. Like I've known you longer than I have.”

Both masters looked at one another, Anakin doing his best to suppress a budding smile.

“What?” You asked. “Don't look at me like that!”

Anakin smiled, leaning on Qui Gon's shoulder. “Eh, it's nothing. Don't worry, leave that to the adults.”

Rolling you eyes, you eyed them squarely. “There is a reason, I reached out. I told my father everything. I need all the help I can get! They're my family.”

“I know, child.” Qui Gon knelt down to your level. “Asking for help is far more difficult and brave than most are willing to admit.”

Feeling far more unnerved than courageous, you asked your dire question. “How do I find the voice? _The Other_? They can reach me. I want to know how I can reach them. I can't take this anymore, it has to end.”

Anakin joined the both of you on the ground, both masters, crossing their legs, fixing you with focused gazes.

“Force connections are difficult enough to maintain, but the manifestation of communication through a bond is...rare.” Anakin started, the elder Jedi allowing him to take the lead. “Are you sure you're ready? Lookin' kind of run down...”

“I don't really have a choice. At this point, no matter what happens, I'll have to be ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written a story in years so I'm starting up again on here and my Tumblr blog. My major has to do a lot with writing so why not practice with things I like, y' know? You can find the story under my blog @spaceshipbugattii My ask box there is also open so send in requests for one-shots or maybe a series idea. I'll check my inbox as often as I can.
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


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